


Lifeline

by comeon_toparadise



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Blood, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mentions of Cancer, Minor Character Death, Original Character(s), Physical Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:13:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 35
Words: 77,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25962634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/comeon_toparadise/pseuds/comeon_toparadise
Summary: choi san, cursed to live a lonely life of forceful giving and taking, really doesn't like it when popular student jung wooyoung suddenly takes an interest in him.- crossposted on wattpad
Relationships: Choi Jongho/Kang Yeosang, Choi San/Jung Wooyoung, Jeong Yunho/Song Mingi, Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa
Comments: 78
Kudos: 369





	1. it happened again

San woke up. Woke up to mild darkness and this flickering lightbulb slightly swinging over his head. For a while, he just stared at it, at the small moth crudely deciding to find solace on its gleaming surface.

And then, he blinked, trying to regain his momentum and the strength in his limbs. For a while, he felt stagnant. His body was numb, his chest empty and his lips chapped with dried blood.

San felt like heaving, but he couldn't. Not when he felt like he was seconds away from fainting. _You should've been used to it by now._ But he wasn't, and he didn't think he ever would.

He fisted his hand, wincing at the sticky feel to it. The smell of blood in the air was sickening and made him nauseous. He forced himself to sit up, the bones in his body cracking at the action. He screwed his eyes shut as he tried to calm his wayward heartbeat, licking his dried lips only to recoil at the metallic taste decorating the inside of his mouth.

San's pulse raced as soon as the door to the room creaked open, only for it to slow down when a familiar face stepped in.

The blond haired male let out a barely there smile, but his dark eyes remained cautious and tinged with worry. He took several steps closer to him whilst wiping his hands with a grey rag, the several piercings adorning his ears glinting through the dark.

"You okay?" The older male asked, casting the rag on one of the metal tables surrounding them. His voice was low and sort of raspy, but the familiarity of it helped calm San's nerves down.

San shook his head. "What do you think?" He replied, hating how hoarse his voice sounded. It only reminded him of how _dead_ he once was.

Seonghwa nodded, understanding what he meant. After all, he'd been around ever since San's _second death_ took place.

"I know..." He answered, and his careful tone of voice made San want to feel annoyed even when he knew he shouldn't. _I'm not a baby_. "That's why I waited for you to fully wake up first. The water's warm, so you can go take a shower. I already have dinner prepared."

San slowly swung his feet over the springy bed he was seated on, the soles pressing against the cold, tiled floors. He glared down at himself. His favourite shirt was now stained with dark blood, and there was nothing he could do to save it. Looking around, he spotted crumpled rags and old clothes at the corners soaked with even more blood. Seonghwa hadn't cleaned them up yet, and San knew it was a result of the older not being too fond of its smell in the first place.

Seonghwa must've noticed his stare, because he decided to add: "I'll clean it up later. Just get washed up, okay?"

He placed a hand on San's shoulder, and his touch made San flinch. He removed it, his expression betraying nothing as he already _understood_ , but San immediately felt apologetic.

 _I keep fucking everything up_. "I-I know you hate it," San breathed, coughing into his arm. He hid the small amount of blood that splattered on it from his cousin's line of sight, even when he had a feeling that Seonghwa already _knew_. He always did.

"You hate the smell of blood." He looked up at Seonghwa. "I'll clean it up. And then I'll go bathe."

Seonghwa shook his head. Naturally being an affectionate person, he reached out once more to touch the younger male's shoulder, only to halt his movement. San didn't like being touched. "No, no, it's fine. What matters is you getting better. _Feeling_ better. Leave it to me."

"I can handle it," San began to argue, because he _could_. He'd been able to handle the amount of pain and anguish he'd passed through the years. He'd been able to handle the presence of death that loomed around him wherever he went, never wanting to let him out of its grasp. He'd been able to handle a lot of things _but_ forgiving himself.

"San, it's fine."

" _It's not_ ," San answered, clenching his fists shut. "Nothing is."

Seonghwa didn't reply, but San didn't _need_ him to anyway. He pushed himself off the bed, hating the way his knees wobbled at the sudden movement. He hated everything lately. Hated the way Seonghwa babied him, hated how nothing seemed to go his way, and he especially hated himself. Because if he hadn't been born, then none of this would've happened. Then maybe his parents would still be alive, then maybe Seonghwa wouldn't have to be burdened by him.

_* * *_

  
Seonghwa had already placed a new set of clothes on the sink in the bathroom, and it only made San sink further into his guilt.

Tossing his already destroyed clothes in the trash, he avoided the mirror at all costs. He didn't need a reminder, because he already _knew_ how skinny he was, knew of the dark circles that shadowed his eyes and the marks that scarred several areas of his already fucked up body.

He stepped into the shower and let the water run down his body. His head hurt, and he briefly remembered hitting it on the livingroom floors before he'd blacked out. He _always_ blacked out before he died, never knowing whether that death would be the last.

San spent some time there, because dried blood was hard to clean off and he'd fallen victim to his harsh, gruesome thoughts once again.

As soon as he came out, he dried himself and put on his clothes, making sure his eyes never strayed to the mirror.

Seonghwa was already in the livingroom by the time San made his way there, phone in his hand and an open textbook on the table he sat at. Being six years older than San, he'd been more than eager to take him into his care once his parents died, even if it meant having to juggle him, his school and his job all at once.

The older male immediately looked up as soon as he spotted San, and smiled. "Feeling better?"

San avoided his eyes. "Yeah." He quickly shook his head when his cousin looked like he was about to stand up. "No need to get my food for me. I'll take it myself."

Seonghwa nodded, his next words piercing through San's very core. "San, you may feel like I'm worrying about you too much, but I'm doing this because I care. I care about you, even if you might feel like you don't deserve it."

San didn't know what to say. He turned and headed towards the kitchen, his shoulders hunched and his face feeling too hot. His nose felt clogged up and he quietly sniffed, willing his tears to stay at bay. No matter what, he would _never_ cry. It wouldn't solve anything, and would only make others perceive him as weak and childish.

As soon as he got his plate full of spaghetti and some sausages, his socked feet padded their way over to Seonghwa's table, the older giving him a soft smile.

"I'll get you something to drink," he let out, but before San could retort he added: "Come on, Sannie, just let me do this for you. And plus, you can't stay without drinking something, it's not good for you."

San didn't reply as he sunk deeper into his oversized sweater, his dark locks falling over his eyes. He liked his hair like that, made him feel invisible. Made him feel like he didn't hurt people with his mere existence.

After Seonghwa returned with some fruit juice, San ate in silence for some time until his ears perked when Seonghwa chuckled at something on his phone.

San bit his lip. "...Are you talking with Hongjoong?"

Seonghwa nodded, the smile on his face widening. Hongjoong was Seonghwa's boyfriend, and they'd been dating for around a year. They were doing that whole long distance thing ever since Hongjoong had travelled to Japan to further his education, but that didn't seem to bother Seonghwa that much.

"Yep. Wished you and I a good night."

San had never seen Hongjoong's face, only knew how he looked like from Seonghwa's words alone. _Short, really smart, dyed white hair, lovely smile_.

San knew a part of why he hadn't been able to see Hongjoong was due to the fact that the older was often busy with school, but the darker, grim part of him also had a feeling that Seonghwa was sort of _hiding_ his boyfriend from him. And he couldn't be mad, not when he had the ability to take someone's life just by seeing them.

_* * *_

  
**a/n** : thoughts?


	2. jung yunho, certified jerk

San groaned as soon as the sound of his phone's alarm cut into his dreamless sleep, making him wince. His eyes slowly opened, hands blindly searching for the phone and promptly turning it off. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, blinking them awake.

It was six thirty in the morning, and since his first class started in an hour and a half, San knew he had to hurry up despite not wanting to go to school in the slightest.

Seonghwa was already out of the house by the time he'd gotten ready -- San knew it was because he had to leave for class -- so he decided to just grab an apple from the fridge instead of making himself breakfast, despite his cousin already placing the ingredients on the counter for him.

San was a terrible cook, and he just wasn't in the mood to make himself anything. He knew his body would make him regret it later, but San didn't give a shit about that right now. He hated the way he looked, but never had the appetite to eat anything.

Entering the bus after he'd waited at the stop for about five minutes, he slumped himself at the back seat and leant his head against the window, drowning out his surroundings with music.

_* * *_

  
San was asleep, dreaming about nothing once more when outside voices interrupted him. His jaw clenched, knowing it was because of the few people that'd decided to camp inside his class during the second half of lunch break. People could do that around here, as long as they didn't bring food inside.

San couldn't do anything though. Inside of school, he was as quiet as he was outside of the premises, and it wasn't like he had anyone in his class that he could talk to.

" -- and then, she just fuckin' _died_ , Donghae, just like that. Nana had just finished making me some cookies yesterday evening since mom had to go to one of her stupid business meetings, and then she just... _Collapsed_. The fuck," the deep timbre of one of the most well known guys of his grade, Jung Yunho, vibrated throughout the now quiet classroom.

San couldn't help it, he looked up, seeing Yunho run a hand through his ocean blue hair, a frustrated sigh leaving his lips.

" _Damn_ , that's horrible," a blond boy with a horrible dye job began, letting out a disbelieving laugh. "But -- cookies? What are you, eight?"

"That's what you got out of everything I just told you?" Yunho said, his lips forming a sneer. His eyes narrowed, and the blond boy visibly swallowed. "It was my _Nana_. She fuckin' died, you asshole." He knelt before the guy, and slammed a large threatening hand on his shoulder. "Want to pay for her death?"

The other guys surrounding them -- as well as the other students that happened to be there -- were silent, and the blond hurriedly shook his head.

"C-Course not," he replied. 

" _C-Course not_ ," Yunho mocked. He let the guy go, exhaling a harsh sigh. He sank himself onto a stray seat. "Couldn't even go out for a smoke because I was so fucking pissed."

San looked away, his heart thumping erratically in his chest. He _knew_ Yunho's grandmother, he realized. He'd seen her at some neighbourhood gathering a couple weeks before his parents had died. She'd been nice and friendly, very much unlike her grandson, and that realization that he'd probably caused her death made him want to throw up. 

Subconsciously, his hands fisted a page of his notebook, shaky and uncoordinated. 

San braved another glance at Yunho, only to catch the eye of the guy himself. He quickly turned around.

"Fuck, some loser was just staring at you. Yunho, did you see?"

"I fucking _saw_ , dumbass."

San exhaled a breath, wanting to just disappear. _Don't come close, don't come close, don't come close --_

"Hey." A hand crashed against his back, firmly gripping his shoulder. San cringed, his pulse starting to rise. _Don't fucking touch me._ "Shin, is it? Why were you staring at me?"

"Bet that asshole was smiling 'cause your grandma just died," one of Yunho's friends uttered.

San wanted to vanish. His chest squeezed, his eyes focusing on nothing but the yellow pencils adorning his table. He wanted Yunho to stop _touching_ him.

"Hey, answer me," Yunho commanded. His voice was firm, round eyes dark and void of emotion. San flinched once more, pushing himself out of his grip. "You deaf or something?"

He grabbed San's chin and forced the younger to face him. San immediately shifted his gaze, sweat starting to bead at his forehead. "Hey, asshole. Your face is familiar, do I fuckin' know you from somewhere -- "

"Yah, Jung Yunho!"

Yunho, _luckily_ , let San's face go, turning to look at the new face that'd just entered the classroom. "What?"

"My pack of cigarettes, where'd you put it?" The voice was familiar, yet _not_ , at the same time. San eyed the male at the door timidly, relieved that Yunho now had something else to distract him.

San's breath though, caught in his throat upon seeing the guy's face.

Jet black hair, curling around pierced ears, and a face that looked really, _really_ pretty. His eyes were round pools of brown, but held this sort of playfulness in them that Yunho's lacked. And his lips were plump, this baby pink colour that faintly reminded San of cotton candy.

_Jung Wooyoung_.

"...don't have your fucking cigarettes, Wooyoung," Yunho was saying, his fists clenched. His gaze darkened. "My grandma _died_ yesterday, the fuck would I be in the mood to smoke for?"

Wooyoung's face didn't falter -- in fact, his face never seemed to change from its neutral state throughout the many times San had seen him around school. He just sighed, his eyes still accusatory. "Woah, tough luck, dude. 'M sorry. But my _cigs_ \-- "

"You fuckin' asshole." But Yunho didn't look mad. He just roughly ruffled Wooyoung's black hair. "You _always_ lose things."

  
Wooyoung jokingly swatted Yunho's hands off, that playful glint in his eyes more prominent. His gaze slithered over to San, and it was then San realized how close the guy had gotten.

Wooyoung's dryly laughed, and San's heart squeezed. "This son of a bitch didn't bother you, right?"

"The fuck do you care about him for?" Yunho was laughing, already making his way out of the class with his minions. "Dude was just staring at me. Creepy stuff. Anyway -- the hell are you doing in this class? The bell's about to ring, and the new hall monitor's got a stick up his ass 24/7."

"I'm _in_ this class, moron," Wooyoung retorted, his gaze still fixed on San. It made him incredibly nervous.

"Thought you always skipped class?"

" _Fuck off_."

The bell rang at that moment, and Yunho saluted Wooyoung before walking off.

"Choi San, right?" Wooyoung asked, and San fucking _jolted_.

 _Dammit, why'd you do that, you idiot?_ San wanted to _strangle_ himself, and at the same time wanted Wooyoung to just go away before he embarrassed himself further.

"W-What?" San blinked, his voice as rough as it'd been after he'd woken up from his death last night.

Wooyoung smirked, revealing a dimple. He pointed at San's school uniform. "It's on your nameplate."

San coughed, his face burning up. Before he could try and formulate a response, the math teacher entered.

The student seated close to San was more than ready to let Wooyoung have his seat as soon as the former tapped his shoulder, and San began to panic the moment the dark haired boy sat down.

"So -- " Wooyoung dropped his rather expensive looking bag on the floor. "Seatmates, huh?"


	3. you stare a lot

Wooyoung stared at him all throughout math class, and it made San both antsy and weary of the guy. Wooyoung didn't even _try_ to hide it. Whenever San snuck a peek at him, he always caught his eye. San hated it, because he didn't know whether he had something up with his face, or if Wooyoung was planning to do something to him.

So when the bell rang, San sprung to his feet and shoved his books into his bag. Luckily for him, he didn't have any class right now, so he was determined to leave the classroom as quick as he possibly could.

Students were already filing out the class, but Wooyoung was taking his sweet time, zipping up his bag with the pace of a snail.

San grabbed his bag and rushed towards the door, but before he could leave Wooyoung had already caught up to him, his face blank but eyes playful, as always.

"Hey, San," he started, and San basically _clammed up_ where he stood. "Why are you so much in a hurry? Got someone you need to see?"

He pushed himself into San's line of sight, a smirk ingrained into his pretty features. "Or...maybe you're _avoiding_ someone?"

San took a step back. He had no clue why Wooyoung was even _with_ him right now, why he was even talking to someone like _him_. Didn't the guy have a class he should be getting to?

San turned around and stared at the floor. Being around a guy like Jung Wooyoung made him self-conscious, because whenever he stared at the goodlooking guy, he was only more aware of how fucked up his face was.

"D-Don't you have class...n _ow_?" San questioned, already heading into the corridors. Wooyoung, unfortunately, followed right after him.

"Why would I when I'm currently occupied with something much more interesting?"

San paused just before he reached the steps, which caused the other male to bump into him. On instinct, he jumped, nerves aflame and heartbeat thrashing within the confines of his chest. His sneakered feet would've almost tripped over the stairs if not for Wooyoung's arms holding him in place at that second.

 _Fuck_ , San's mind screamed. _Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck_ \--

Wooyoung's arms were tight around his waist, his breath fanning San's collarbone. "Fuck, watch your step. Being accused of murder is _not fun_."

With a panicked intake of breath, San gulped. "Please, let me go."

Fortunately, Wooyoung listened, and San continued on his way, gritting his teeth when the black haired male just kept on tailing him.

"Where're you goin'?" Wooyoung asked.

San didn't want to reply. He just wanted Wooyoung to get lost and leave him alone, not matter how visually appealing he was. But, since the guy seemed to be good friends with Jung Yunho -- a guy who _a lot_ of students feared -- San knew he had to watch what he said and how he acted around Wooyoung.

Fuck, this was _so_ exhausting.

"San." Wooyoung's hand held San's wrist, which made the latter's breath hitch. His eyebrows raised when San yanked his arm from his grip.

"Don't...don't touch me. Please."

Wooyoung raised his hands in surrender. "'Right then. _Sorry_. But then again, didn't I just save you from impending death -- "

"Stop it." San's jaw clenched. He didn't want to think about something like death. Not right now, not _ever_.

Wooyoung blinked, eyes flashing with disbelief. "Fine. Apparently you don't like me mumbling the word 'death' as well." He stepped closer to San, his bag's strap hanging loosely over his shoulder. "Is there anything that you _do_ like, though?"

San looked down at his left hand, realizing he'd been picking at his nails far too much for his licking. Exhaling a shaky breath, he shoved his hand into his slacks.

"You okay?" Wooyoung asked. He was closer than he needed to be, _once again_ , face unreadable and lips puckered into this childish pout that made him seem less and less genuine. "Looks like you've just seen a ghost."

San pulled at his locks, annoyed. "Why are you with me?"

"It's either you right now, or some business class I'm not even half interested in," Wooyoung answered honestly. "And _fuck_ , I can't even smoke right now, so _that_ sucks."

San grimaced, wetting his chapped lips. He didn't even know why, or _how_ he'd landed himself into a conversation with someone like _Wooyoung_ at this moment.

"You have your friends," he'd argued.

Wooyoung pushed his hands into his pockets. "Those assholes are more annoying than usual when they don't have something to lure me in with. Especially now that Yunho lost my pack of cigarettes. Bet he stole it."

"But he just lost his grandma," San found himself muttering lowly. His voice, however, was loud enough for Wooyoung to hear.

"That sucks," Wooyoung kicked at a pebble. "But that shit's too fuckin' depressing. I'm in a good mood right now, don't ruin it, Choi."

San just nodded, not really knowing how to respond. Sure, he'd seen Jung Wooyoung as a person who didn't really wear his heart on his sleeve, but the guy barely showed any ounce of emotion on his face. Everything he felt, it seemed, was buried within his eyes.

"Where are you going right now?" Wooyoung's voice snapped San out of his thoughts.

San's right hand clenched around his bag's strap. "Home."

Wooyoung's lips tugged into a smirk that seemed sweet, his dark eyes a lot more piercing than usual, and San caught himself staring _too_ long at him. He looked away, his left hand's fingers working away in the confines of his pocket.

"Wanna go get some ice cream with me?" Wooyoung asked, his tone too serious for what he'd just suggested.

San, as if in some stupid trance, slowly nodded. But a part of him knew deep down, that Wooyoung wouldn't have taken no for an answer.


	4. ice cream is for kings

"Order whatever you fucking want," Wooyoung threw his bag on the floor next to the table he'd chosen for them, "it's on me."

San wearily eyed the shop they'd entered. A couple of eyes had wandered over as a result of the slight noise Wooyoung had made, but the boy didn't seem to give a crap about any of their stares. He looked at ease, which was nothing _close_ to how San was feeling right now.

Wooyoung's eyes met his, calculating yet amused. He folded his arms over the circular table, a smile threatening to break over his face. "Are you just gonna stand there like an idiot, or are you gonna seat and order like a normal person?"

Blood rushed into San's ears, and his face burned. He took the available seat across from Wooyoung, whilst the other male slid the menu over to him.

"Order." Was his command. "The more it is, the better. I barely see you eat anything at lunch."

San bit his lip, his stomach forming knots and getting all queasy because of Wooyoung's words. But, it was the _good_ kind of queasy. _That didn't even make sense_.

With Wooyoung's eyes on him like that, San's urge to pick at his nails grew more and more.

Wooyoung's eyebrows raised. "Hmm?"

"I -- " San inhaled. "I c-can't."

" _Why_?" Wooyoung almost sounded offended.

"I don't want you to...waste your money on me."

"I'm not wasting anything," Wooyoung countered. "If anything, I've got too _much_ money, it makes me sick."

"...Then why can't you get yourself a new pack of cigarettes?" San asked before he could stop himself.

Wooyoung just waved a dismissive hand. "Parents can't know I used their _precious_ card to buy myself some cigarettes, I already screw up enough." He let out a gasp that caught San off-guard. "Shit, did I get _too_ personal? We barely know each other, right? So just forget I ever told you this, okay?" He reached out and, ever so softly, poked San's wrist.

Heat fizzled underneath San's skin at the touch, and it made him swallow. _Hard_. He coughed, hating the way a mere _poke_ from Wooyoung made him feel. _I'm such a fucking loser_.

"Okay..." His fists curled.

"So, what are you ordering?" Wooyoung had already taken out his phone, his thumbs clicking over the screen.

"Whatever you want," was San's reply. He was indecisive, and he didn't even want ice cream in the first place. "I don't even like ice cream that much, to be honest."

Wooyoung looked up from his touchscreen, his expression baffled. It only made San a lot more anxious. "How the fuck can you _not_ like ice cream? There are a bunch of different flavours you can choose from, and it _always_ makes you feel better. Look -- " he then leaned it, and his close proximity left San feeling breathless, as weird as it sounded. Up close, his hair looked even _softer_ , and San could spot a small mole right below his left eye. His skin appeared smoother too, and his lips glistened as a result of licking them a few seconds prior.

"Hey, Choi. Are you even _listening_ to me?" Wooyoung's words were like a verbal slap to San's face. He immediately recoiled, his heart moments aways from nearly popping out of his chest.

He winced when Wooyoung lightly smacked his arm with the menu.

"I was here trying to explain the absolute _wonders_ of ice cream, and next thing I know, you're completely zoning out. That's why you're such a loser."

 _Ouch_. The way San's chest constricted was painful.

"Only cool people like ice cream. And for you to be cool, eating ice cream is a must."

"I just -- " San paused, shutting his eyes. What even was this entire conversation? "Fine, okay. Whatever."

Wooyoung, for the first time, _grinned_ , and San felt his insides turn into mush.

_* * *_

  
Wooyoung got him _too much_ ice cream, but it didn't matter when San couldn't finish it, because the former was more than eager to have it all to himself.

 _Why even order ice cream for me when you're just gonna take it anyway?_ San thought, watching as Wooyoung finished off his _and_ San's ice cream bowls. He couldn't complain though since Wooyoung like he was in a great mood, and he liked seeing the other boy smile even if he wouldn't want to ever admit it.

When both teens exited the shop, the sky had already begun to dim, the peachy skies bringing out the brown in Wooyoung's eyes. They even seemed warmer, somehow.

"Since you ate the ice cream I bought, you're practically my servant now," Wooyoung spoke, alerting San's attention.

San almost choked on nothing in surprise. "W-What?"

Wooyoung turned to face him, his expression back to being blank. "The ice cream bit was an initiation. And you passed."

"What?"

"I really wanna smack you right now, but you told me not to touch you and I fuckin' respect that. So I _won't_ smack you. But stop acting like an idiot," Wooyoung's right brow rose. "It doesn't suit you."

Embarrassment, mixed with a bit of anger and that mushy feeling in his chest that wouldn't go away, was all that San felt at that moment. He bit his lip, not wanting to show that the other's words had affected him. "I'm not an idiot. You're...being kind of rude."

Wooyoung barely looked bothered. His lips just twitched a bit. "I'm only rude to people I like."

San absolutely refused to dwell on the boy's words. Wooyoung had already confused him too much for one day. "I have to head home."

"You're my servant now, so I get to decide when you leave."

San stared at Wooyoung, wide-eyed.

The black haired male chuckled. "Kidding, Choi. _But_ , I need your number."

San's tongue dried. "F-For what?"

"Need to find a way to reach you whenever I want us to do stupid shit together."

San had no idea what the 'stupid shit' consisted of, but he already didn't like the sound of it. "I don't... I'm just -- "

Wooyoung pulled out his phone from his pocket. "Just what, asshole? What, you think I'm hitting on you or something?" The pale yellow colour of the sky had darkened into this soft pink hue, enhancing his features even more. He looked far too _delicate_ for the words he almost always spoke. "Did I give you that impression?"

San shook his head, his neck pulsing with warmth. He felt so embarrassed, wanted to be anywhere _but_ here. He cautiously passed his phone over to Wooyoung. "N-No..."

"Good. Wouldn't want you getting the wrong idea anyways..."

_* * *_

_What? You think I'm hitting on you or something?_

Wooyoung's words at that ice cream shop had echoed throughout San's mind the majority of that night. He didn't even know _why_ he was even thinking about it. Of course, Wooyoung didn't like him like that, and San didn't expect him to anyways. From what San had seen of the guy at school, he didn't radiate gay vibes at all.

_But_ _,_ _why did Wooyoung suddenly want to hang out with him?_

San had no homework for the day, which totally fucking sucked, and Seonghwa was still at his job, finishing up his shift. So that left him alone with his thoughts, which was a bad thing as far as he was concerned.

Usually, his mind would be filled with bitterness and how much he despised and hated himself for what he did and what he was, but now, his mind was clouded by Wooyoung's gut-wrenching words. Great, San just couldn't get a break.

He closed his eyes, and immediately the sight of blood coated the back of his eyelids. He gulped and thought about Yunho's grandmother, and his guilt only started to worsen.

_It's not your fault_ , Seonghwa would always tell him, but San never believed him. Not even once.

_I fucking kill people just by living, Hwa._

  
His phone, slightly cracked from when he'd dropped it yesterday evening, buzzed from where it lay on San's bed. He took it and saw he had a text message.

**\- unknown number**  
_hey, loser_

**\- unknown number**  
_its me, wooyoung_

**\- san**  
_hello_

**\- wooyoung**  
_save my contact name as_  
_'choi_ _san's_ _master'_

**\- san**  
_already did_

**\- wooyoung**  
_wait, really?_

**\- san**  
_mhm_

**\- wooyoung**  
_great. now i can sleep well_

_Don't think about his words too much_ , San told himself.

**\- san**  
_okay_

  
**\- wooyoung**  
_good night, weirdo_

  
**\- san**  
_good night_

San was utterly and wholly confused. And he didn't like it one bit.


	5. i look for you, not the other way around

The next day, Jung Wooyoung ignored San. Or more like, he just didn't spare a single glance his way. On one side, it made San incredibly relieved that one of Yunho's friends had finally left him alone. But the other side... _kind of_ didn't expect things to go that route.

 _What? You thought you'd suddenly become friends?_ The bitter and snarky voice inside San's head laughed, and no matter how hard San tried to get rid of it, it just wouldn't _get out_. That voice alone made him realize how much of a fool he was for thinking that Wooyoung would want to continue talking to him, even when their conversation yesterday was all sorts of awkward. _Stupid, stupid, stupid._

"It's good that this is happening," San whispered to himself after the first half of the school day passed without any interaction from Wooyoung. "If he becomes my friend, then it'll hurt a lot more if I lose him..."

And then, Wednesday passed, then Thursday, then Friday, and then the whole weekend. Wooyoung never texted San as well, and by that time, the latter had been slowly beginning to cut the boy loose from his life. _The_ _time_ _we'd spent together was only a one-time thing_.

San couldn't think about some boy when he already had enough on his plate. He never knew when another death could strike, and he didn't want to get so distracted that he blacked out in a public place or something. He couldn't afford to forget about what he was, even when he so badly wanted to at times.

_* * *_

  
Seonghwa slid a bowl of cereal in front of San early that Monday morning.

He gestured towards the phone that (somehow), San had completely forgotten he was holding. "Waiting for a text, or call, from someone?"

San placed the phone face-down on the table. "...I can't have friends. You know that."

Seonghwa bit his lip in thought, before taking the seat across from San. His eyes looked hopeful. "...Well, at least one wouldn't hurt."

"You're already my friend," San replied, digging the spoon into his cereal. He was glad Seonghwa didn't put a lot this time, because he wasn't in the mood to eat much, anyways.

"I know I am, but I'm also your cousin," Seonghwa said, his tone soft. "It would be nice if you could get a friend that wasn't related to you."

San exhaled, before whispering: "I wouldn't be able to bear it." He forced himself to take a few bites of the cereal. "Wouldn't be able to bear it if someone close to me died _because_ of me."

"I know," Seonghwa answered. "And...I also know the risk of being here with you, but I hardly care about that because you're my family. You mean a lot to me, and I'm sure whoever befriends you would feel the same."

But San knew the cold, hard truth. _They_ _wouldn't_.

_* * *_

  
San pulled the hoodie he wore on top his school uniform over his head the minute he'd entered the school premises.

At that closed-off area by the woods, San could spot Yunho as well as his friends, smoking and joking about whatever. He watched as Yunho playfully slapped a guy across his neck, the latter's hands raised in surrender while the rest erupted into guffaws. If you weren't aware of Yunho (which was impossible), you'd think his frequent closeness with guys meant that he'd maybe swung that way, but that wasn't the case. He only did those things as a way of subduing those he considered below him.

San slowly slid to a stop upon seeing Wooyoung amongst those friends. But, he wasn't standing up or joking around, he was sat at one of the small steps, a cigarette in hand as he stared off into nothing.

 _Stop watching him_ , San told himself. _God, why are you even watching him, you_ _doofus_ _?_

San pushed himself further into the school before Wooyoung could catch his stare.

_* * *_

  
Classes passed. Wooyoung was in some of them, and in others, he wasn't. He didn't seem to give a shit about his attendance. During math, he sat at his usual seat at the back too -- not the one beside San that he'd stolen from a student.

San felt like an idiot for wondering what he'd done wrong. At the point during math class, he'd turned and found himself meeting Wooyoung's gaze from the back. His chest felt it'd just been splintered when Wooyoung just looked away.

It was painfully obvious now that Wooyoung was avoiding him. But, that shouldn't have mattered now, should it? It's not like they'd been friends at all in the first place.

At lunch, San opted for finding a seat outside the class, in case Yunho felt like bothering him again or something, even when the guy didn't even look his way anymore. But then again, San was insanely paranoid, especially when several things were going wrong all at once.

He entered the bathroom first, checking the bathroom mirror to see if his body was bleeding from anywhere -- which it wasn't, thank god. Then, he headed down the halls, uncaring about the classes he passed until --

"Hey, Choi!"

The voice was loud, and San was incredibly thankful that no one was around. He turned, his heartbeat racing to embarrassing, unspeakable lengths once he spotted Wooyoung in what appeared to be the art room.

San guessed Wooyoung could see his reluctance, so the guy decided to beckon him over.

"You can come in. I'm not harmful," he said, looking like he'd found the whole thing hilarious. And San, like before, obeyed.

"You can seat here." Wooyoung patted the spot next to him on the table he sat at, a couple feet away from all the canvases that camped around at one corner. "Come on, I don't bite."

San slowly sat down, finding it insanely difficult to look at anything else other than his thin hands with Jung Wooyoung so close to him like that.

"Sooo...how's my servant doing?" Wooyoung asked, causing San to look up at him, blinking.

"What?"

Wooyoung just _stared_ at him for a second, before laughing out loud. "Fuck, I don't even know _how_ I thought I could ignore you for so long. That shit practically hurt to do." He purposefully rubbed his shoulder against San. "You hate touches, but I hope you don't mind shoulder rubs."

San's tongue felt too heavy to even mutter a single coherent word. His body was warm, and it fucking made him want to _explode_. "Uh..."

He stared at Wooyoung as the other excitedly pointed to one canvas, noting his twinkling eyes, the mole under the left one, and...what appeared to be a faint purplish mark at the edge of his jaw.

"...see that painting? What do you think about it?"

San blinked and quickly looked away from Wooyoung, instead focusing his gaze on the painting as the latter had instructed him to do.

The painting itself was kind of a simple one at first, but, as San watched it more and more, he realized the amount of thought the painter must've put into it for it to come out so cohesive. The painting depicted a sky that was a flawless transition from purple to indigo, as well as a buzzling city which's lights shone through the darkness. In the distance though, was a cliff mostly submerged in shadows, save for the two silhouettes that looked like human beings laying on its edge.

"It's nice..." San ended up muttering.

"Thanks, because it's mine."

"Oh."

Wooyoung pouted. "Are you disappointed 'cause it's mine?"

"N-No..."

Wooyoung rested his back against the wall their table was positioned against, and he was back to looking at San again. "We're still kind of strangers, so I can't tell you much, but..." He tapped his fingers over the table, and some of them grazed over San's in the process. San's fist curled, but he didn't move his hand away.

"But," Wooyoung continued, "this is like, one of the _very_ few classes in this shitty fucking school that I actually _like_. And guess what? Mrs Kim doesn't even care that much about attendance, only wants her assignments to be handed in on time." He sighed. "But, my parents don't give a shit about that. They both think it's a waste of time, think I should occupy my time with more _important_ subjects, yada yada yada. Fuckin' sucks hearing that crap almost everyday, y'know?"

San faced the boy beside him, hoping his anxiety towards this whole situation wasn't apparent. "I...I think you should just ignore them."

"Like how I'd ignored you?"

San swallowed. "Yeah."

"But, it _never_ works."

"You can still try." San didn't know why he thought Wooyoung could easily ignore whatever bothered him, when _he_ himself couldn't even ignore his internal demons.

"It didn't work with you, so what makes you think it'll work with them?" Wooyoung asked, crossing his arms across his chest. His tone was bordering on dismissive, but his eyes looked genuinely curious as to how San was going to reply him.

" _I'm_ nice, they don't seem to be." San picked his nail. "And whenever I feel sad, I always try to think of nice things."

Wooyoung chuckled. "I should think of you, then."

San panicked. "I -- "

"Guess it's settled, then. I'll think of Choi San when my parents start to annoy me."

"I-I," San paused. "Y-You make it sound so..."

"So _what_? Weird? _Gay_?"

San didn't know how to reply.

"I'm not into you, though," Wooyoung said.

"Okay."

"I'll think of you in a non-homosexual way."

"Okay."

Wooyoung lightly kicked him. "Hey, stop saying 'okay' so much you weirdo."

"Oka -- Uhm, _fine_."

"God, you're hopeless. But then again, _I like that_."

San was confused. So, _so_ confused.


	6. just texting things

Talking; one of the most fundamental elements that made human beings who they were. But, Jung Wooyoung felt like some people _shouldn't_ be allowed to talk. Because maybe if they didn't, the world would feel like a better place, even if it had already gone to shit.

And if there was someone on top of his ' _Never talk again'_ list, it would be his parents. They always _talked_ , picking and tearing apart whatever they felt was _unacceptable_. And apparently, their second child was included in it as well.

"Take school seriously," They said. "Stop hanging out with those friends of yours," They said. "Stop wasting your time with painting," They said. "Fix your attitude," They said. "Why can't you be more like your older sister?" They said.

They always had something to _say_. Keeping their mouths shut wasn't in their vocabulary.

And Wooyoung, naturally, rebelled against them. He did whatever he wanted outside the house, because a part of him truly could not give two fucks about what his parents thought of him. But another part, a very, _very_ stupid part, wondered if his parents would ever accept him for _him_. It just seemed like a lost cause.

He didn't eat anything during dinner, but his parents never commented on it. They chatted eagerly with his sister Yebin, looking happy that at least one child of theirs didn't turn out to be such a disappointment.

Wooyoung exhaled a breath, looking at the phone he hid underneath the dinner table. His grip on it especially tightened when his mother's gaze found his from across the table. He was glad the table was huge enough to give him a bit of space away from his relatives, because just being with them for a prolonged amount of time really fucking drained his will to live.

"Not a bite tonight?" His mother asked. Her face was dolled up, hair straightened to perfection as she was expecting a few of her business friends over in an hour, but no amount of makeup could liven up the dead look in her eyes.

Wooyoung's thumbs pinched his fingers. He remembered the many times he'd seen San pick at his nails, so much so that the skin around them peeled, and Wooyoung had never seen the appeal then. But now, trapped underneath his mother's expectant gaze, he suddenly _understood_ the other male's actions more and more.

"Wooyoung?" she probed, and the way his name sounded in her mouth made him want to cut himself open and sink into the ground. _Stop it. Don't say my name_. _Stop it, stop it, stop it_.

"I'm not eating anything tonight," Wooyoung answered, immensely relieved that his voice was levelled.

His mother smiled, but it looked more like a sneer. "Good."

Wooyoung held his phone so tight, he feared the screen would crack under the pressure. _Just like how he felt right now_.

_* * *_

  
When San's phone vibrated that night, he'd grabbed the device quicker than he'd like to admit. He straightened up once he read Wooyoung's contact name on the screen.

**\- wooyoung**  
_san, u there?_

That was like, the first time Wooyoung had ever said his name, and even if it was through text, it made San's ears really warm.

**\- san**  
_yeah_

**\- wooyoung**  
_good._

San flung himself over his bed, raking hard through his brain for what he should say next.

**\- san**  
_everything okay?_

**\- san**  
_did you_  
_try that ignoring thing?_

**\- wooyoung**  
_i tried_

**\- wooyoung**  
_thought of you too, in like, a_  
_bro way, and it kinda worked_

San dropped his phone over his face. _Fuck_. He winced in pain, wiping his clammy hands against his shirt. _Goddammit San, you're so dumb_.

**\- wooyoung**  
_you there?_

**\- san**  
_i am_

**\- san**  
_but i just dropped my phone_  
_on my face_

San wanted to hit himself. _Why_ did he send that?

**\- wooyoung**  
_fuck_

**\- wooyoung**  
_i caCKLED_

**\- wooyoung**  
_goddammit choi, you just made my night :))_

**\- san**  
_is that a good thing?_

**\- wooyoung**  
_duh_

**\- wooyoung**  
_where are u rn_

**\- san**  
_in my room, on my bed_

**\- wooyoung**  
_cool_

**\- wooyoung**  
_guess where i am_

**\- san**  
_in your room, on your bed?_

**\- wooyoung**  
_bingo!_

And then Wooyoung sent him a picture. And it wasn't _just_ any pic, no, it was a selfie of himself.

It was kinda grainy, since it seemed to be taken in the darkness of his bedroom, but his eyes, those round, brown eyes of his, shone like the stars in the night sky. His pale lips were set in this calm, satisfied smirk that heightened San's heart rate, and he looked more than comfy in the grey sweatshirt he had on.

San chewed on his lower lip. Wooyoung looked _really_ good.

**\- wooyoung**  
_save that as my contact pic_

**\- san**  
_okay_

**\- wooyoung**  
_and, how do i look?_  
_cute and honest version_

**\- san**  
_what?_

**\- wooyoung**  
_cute version: what i want to hear_  
_honest version:_ _the_ _truth_

**\- san**  
_uhm, well_

**\- san**  
_you look handsome_

**\- wooyoung**  
_thanks, grandma_

**\- san**  
_:(_

**\- wooyoung**  
_whatever_

**\- wooyoung**  
_u said i look handsome, right?_

**\- san**  
_yeah?_

**\- wooyoung**  
_was that_ _the_ _cute, or the honest version?_

San contemplated what he should reply. If he chose the cute version, then Wooyoung would think he was an asshole. If he chose the honest version, then he would risk Wooyoung thinking of him as a creep. _Why am I overthinking this?_

**\- wooyoung**  
_hurry up, choi_

**\- san**  
_uh, the honest version_  
_thats_ _what it is_

**\- wooyoung**  
_so u think i look handsome_

**\- san**  
_yeah..._

**\- wooyoung**  
_so_ _ure_ _gay then_

**\- san**  
_uhm_

**\- wooyoung**  
_god, san_

**\- wooyoung**  
_its so hard to get a reaction out of you through text_

**\- wooyoung**  
_but its fine though,_  
_if u are gay i mean_

**\- san**  
_okay_

**\- wooyoung**  
🙃

San smiled. The nervous feeling he'd had while texting Wooyoung was almost completely gone, but that mushy feeling had only grown.

 **\- san**  
🙂

**\- wooyoung**  
_u_ _freakin_ _weird weirdass weirdo_

**\- san**  
_u always call me names_

**\- wooyoung**  
_because i like you, asshole_

**\- wooyoung**  
_in a bro way_  
_n ur my servant now, so_

San laid his phone over his chest, and stared right at the ceiling. And, slowly but surely, his smile transformed into a dopey grin. 


	7. telling the truth 'n stuff

Wooyoung was in San's Korean Language class the next day, and was seated at the back row like he usually was. This time though, he didn't blatantly avoid San's eyes, and when their gazes occasionally met during the class, Wooyoung even offered him a small wave.

' _Focus on your work, asshole_ ,' he'd mouthed when he caught San's eyes on him for the fourth time. He looked _way_ too smug saying this, and San had to wonder if the guy had a hunch of the kind of effect he had on him. If he knew, he didn't seem to show it.

The teacher, a tall and carefree male in his late twenties, Mr Jeon had been jotting down the latest assignment on the board when San felt it. That slight buzz in his ears that was similar to a bee's, and he swallowed hard. His head felt heavy atop his neck, like it was sinking deeper and deeper into a large pool of water.

 _No, not now_.

His gaze jerked all over the classroom, at the teacher who was still writing, and at the students either copying down their notes or whispering amongst themselves. No one looked out of place, _except him_.

His vision grew tainted, the nerves in his brain pulsating and grating away at his core. It was like a migraine, but worse. _So fucking worse_.

San's hand harshly gripped the other, trying to ignite a pain that would distract him from the mess that was going on in his head. He screwed his eyes shut, wanting to just _scream_ and tear himself out of his skin.

_I have to leave now. I have to, I have to, I have to --_

San rose a hand, barely processing what was going on around him.

Mr Jeon stopped talking. "Yes, Choi San?"

 _Hurry up_. San forced his eyes to open, his teeth gritting as he tried to withstand the pain. "I...I need to...to go to the bathroom."

"Are you okay?" The teacher's voice had grown more concerned now, but San just wanted him to _hurry up_.

The class was silent, of course it _fucking_ was, but San, at this particular moment, couldn't care less about whatever the others were thinking about him.

"I just, need to use the bathroom."

Luckily, Mr Jeon nodded. "Would you like someone to accompany you?"

San had already stood up, a cold drop of sweat rolling down his temple. He hurriedly shook his head and then raced out the class, trying to keep his steps even.

 _Fuck_ , he internally cursed. Something like this had never happened at school before. It had always been someplace else.

He slammed his hands over his ears when that sensation of being drowned wouldn't leave him, ignoring the stares he got on his way to the boys' bathroom.

Faintly spotting the door, he lurched in, pushing through a stall and locking it. He grabbed the roll of tissue paper he saw, gasping when blood suddenly forced itself out of his throat and into the toilet bowl, some of it dribbling down his chin. Disgusted by his own body, San tried to clean out whatever he could, his limbs getting heavier and heavier the more minutes had passed.

Even with how weak he'd gotten, he still tried to wipe off any excess blood, not wanting to freak out anyone that happened to step into the bathroom. Exhausted, he hit his head on the side of the stall, and slept.

_* * *_

  
When San awoke, the entire bathroom was silent. He wondered how much time he'd spent inside the stall, but wasn't in the mood to worry about his classes when he'd just died once again. He didn't even know if he should let Seonghwa know what had happened, didn't want his cousin to get even more worried about him. San didn't even _deserve_ to get worried about.

He flushed his mess and stood up, his legs unsteady. A small splotch of red stained the collar of his school uniform, and he planned on scrubbing it out at the bathroom sink once he left.

San coughed a little, unlocked the stall and got out. As it always did whenever something like _this_ happened, San's mind had gone back to loathing his body. He wanted to get rid of himself. In fact, he should've gotten rid of himself a long time ago. Then others wouldn't have had to die because of him.

He sighed, about to walk towards the sink when a hand grabbed his. He gasped and turned around, his eyes blown wide in shock.

"Shit," Wooyoung dropped his hand and frowned. "Sorry." He dusted himself off, totally ignoring the frightened look on the other's face.

"W-Wooyoung." San curled his fists, not knowing why the guy just had to be here, at this point in time. His eyes nervously drifted off to the stall he'd previously been in. "I-I -- Why are you here? Why did you follow me?"

"You just, _bolted_ out of the fucking class," Wooyoung explain, slinging his bag's strap over his shoulder. "Why _wouldn't_ I follow you?"

San inhaled and exhaled, his entire body feeling lightheaded. "How...how much time did I spend in there?"

Wooyoung shrugged, his eyes on San once more. "Maybe...about thirty minutes?"

"...And how long did you stay here?"

"You didn't seem like you were going to leave anytime soon, so I decided to camp here for a bit." Wooyoung patted his bag. "Couldn't smoke since I had _no idea_ what was going on with you in there -- you could be fuckin' _asthmatic_ for all I know -- so I just stayed out here and listened to some music. Was kinda calming, actually."

San chewed on his lip, moving closer to the sink. "Uh, thanks. For staying here, I mean."

And _o_ _f course_ , Wooyoung followed after him.

San paused, meeting the other boy's gaze through the mirror.

"What? Do what you gotta do, I'm not interrupting."

 _Yes, yes you are_ , San wanted to argue. _Just by being here right now, behind me, is interrupting me in every way possible. And not to mention, you never fail to fucking distract me all the damn time. Why are you always on my mind?_

San groaned, his jaw clenched as he washed his face with the sink's water, trying to rub the exhaustion out of his eyes. The water soaked his skin, cleaning out what needed to be cleaned, but San knew there was nothing that could erase or scrub away the many atrocities he'd committed in his lifetime.

He blew out a breath and screwed the tap shut, coasting his pale hands through his black hair, only for a couple strands to fall across his forehead once more. His heartbeat thumped in his ears the moment he noticed Wooyoung staring at him from the mirror. San's breath hitched. _He probably thinks you look like shit_.

Wooyoung pulled out his phone, trying to look like he was busy. San thought that maybe he was uncomfortable to look at. If that was truly the case, he wouldn't be surprised.

"You okay?" Wooyoung asked, as straight-to-the-point as usual, but this time, his tone was laced with a faint, but recognizable worry.

San resisted the urge to bite his nails. "You want the cute, or the honest version?"

Wooyoung lifted his gaze and, with his eyes slowly raking his form from top to bottom, scrutinized him. But it wasn't like, mean or anything. He actually looked amused. His lips quipped into a smirk. "Honest version. I fucking hate lies."

San stared at the floors, wringing his hands together. He let out a chuckle that lacked all sense of humour. "I'm not okay, to be honest..."

"And why is that?"

"We're not that close, you said it yourself," San replied.

"But," Wooyoung jutted his lower lip, "I'm your _master_."

San couldn't help it. He smiled a little, despite his current situation. Wooyoung still looked really pretty, and his lips reminded San of lovely rose petals.

"And plus, I already told you. I really hate lies."

San could hear the shouts and chatter from students outside the bathroom, and he was suddenly reminded of where he was. "We need to go to class."

"Not until you tell me the truth." Wooyoung stepped even closer to him, and San froze as the former's thumb brushed just below his jawline, his warm touch rivalling the heat that'd begun to unravel inside San's chest. "...And why," he flicked at San's shirt collar, "there's blood staining your shirt."

San inwardly flinched, and took a step back. There was no way he could tell Wooyoung what happened to him, no matter how much he wanted to. It just didn't _feel_ right. He had no idea how Wooyoung would take it.

"I need to go to class," San repeated.

"You aren't going to tell me anything, are you?" Wooyoung frowned, smacking his arm. "Asshole."

"Ow," San grimaced, rubbing said arm.

He watched as Wooyoung walked over to the bathroom door, only for some guy to rush inside and head into a stall. The dark haired male ignored it though, turning to face San.

"But, I'll find out about it soon enough, Choi," he sang, before smirking and leaving the bathroom.

San glared at his reflection in the mirror, cursing himself to hell and back for being so obvious, so _stupid_.

 _I'm so stupid_.


	8. choi san, korean language genius

"We always seem to be hanging out the most during lunch," Wooyoung's voice was heard in the library, close to the table where San sat at.

San refused to look up from the paper he'd been writing on, his fingers twisting around his pen.

"Choi," Wooyoung took the empty seat next to him. Once San looked up, he wriggled his fingers in a wave, that infuriatingly attractive smirk still present on his face. "Hi."

San forced himself to keep writing, determined to finish the class assignment before he went home later that afternoon.

"Don't forget, you're still my servant," Wooyoung continued.

"Hang out with your other friends," San proceeded to begin another paragraph.

"I don't want to." Wooyoung zipped his bag open and pulled out a pack of chips.

San looked around, panicked. "You can't eat in the library."

The other male just shoved a chip into his mouth. "Don't care."

San groaned. Wooyoung's presence, to be honest, wasn't that horrible, but San really couldn't deal with him right now, especially when he already _knew_ the guy wanted to find things out about him.

So, he grabbed his paper and bag, preparing to leave.

Almost immediately, Wooyoung's hand reached out to grab his. San stared at the floor, hoping the warmth in his cheeks wasn't noticeable.

"Okay, I'm sorry," Wooyoung apologized. His hold loosened around San's hand, sliding down his palm and then lingering at the tip of his fingers. "I'm being annoying, I get it."

San sat, placing his stuff back on the table. "It's...it's okay."

Wooyoung dryly chuckled. "It's not, but, whatever." He eyed the paper, eyebrows furrowed in curiosity. "What's that?"

San didn't even know why he replied. "It's the korean language assignment Mr Jeon gave us earlier today."

"Ooh, how'd you manage to get them? I don't remember handling you the notes."

"I looked for him."

Wooyoung laughed, eyes crinkling and everything. "You _looked_ for him. Damn, you're such a nerd."

"S-Shut up," San stuttered, hating how squeaky his voice sounded at that moment. _Speak up, pipsqueak._ San quickly shook his head, shutting his eyes. No, he wouldn't think about that right now. He absolutely _wouldn't_.

He opened his eyes to Wooyoung looking through his assignment, eyes promptly shifting through the words while his face remained in its usual expressionless state.

"Wooyoung -- "

"Fuck," said boy cursed, his wide eyes now focused on San's confused face. "You mean I've been busting my ass under the hands of my stupid hired tutor trying to get good marks for this godforsaken subject, when you can write an essay _this_ good in like, what? Ten minutes? _And_ you didn't even tell me?" Wooyoung fell into his seat, letting out a disbelieving scoff. "Shit, you really are an asshole. A _genius_ asshole."

San blinked. Like a majority of his time spent around Wooyoung, he had no idea how to respond whenever the boy went off on one of his rants. "Um."

"Teach me your secret," Wooyoung continued, reading through San's essay as if it had all the answers to the world's greatest mysteries or something.

"It's...nothing special, though."

"Are you _kidding me_?" Wooyoung retorted.

"You like it that much?"

"This paper alone can get me _at least_ a ninety," Wooyoung said, and his excitement about what San didn't even consider as something to brag about, made the boy feel like...like maybe he had something, no matter how small it was, that he could be _proud_ of.

"Is it that... _good_?" San's voice was quiet, not wanting to admit that the other boy's words had affected him way more than he let on.

Wooyoung eagerly nodded. "Duh."

"Then, I can...maybe...help you with your essay?"

San didn't know what had possessed him to say that, but the way Wooyoung's eyes lit up by that one measly statement shocked him in the most pleasant of ways.

"Shit, _really_?" The boy asked.

San scratched his nape, for once feeling like he was doing something right. "Yeah."

"Fuck, I'm so happy right now I feel like I could _kiss you_ ," Wooyoung said as he popped more chips into his mouth. "But, that would be weird."

San, red-eared and embarrassed, played with his blue-inked pen, not knowing what he should do with himself. He wanted nothing more than to just disappear at that point in time.

_* * *_

  
"You look awfully smiley tonight," Seonghwa told San that evening. After San had told him of what had happened at school today (minus his confusing interactions with Jung Wooyoung), the older had made sure to spend as much time with his cousin as possible, not wanting him to get drowned in his negative, self-deprecating thoughts.

San perked up at this, his fingers automatically starting to poke and prod themselves inside his sweater's pockets.

"I'm not," San denied. He didn't want his cousin getting the wrong idea, and he definitely didn't _feel_ ready to let him know about Wooyoung, for whatever reason. _What even were they, anyway? Strangers? Acquaintances? Classmates? Friends?_

"Hey, Sannie... This is what I mean." At this, Seonghwa handed his phone over to him, and when San saw himself on the camera, his first instinct was to recoil.

He despised the sight of his face. "God, I look like crap."

"No you _don't_ ," Seonghwa assured. San didn't believe him though. "Come on, take a look for yourself."

And he was right. San _did_ look 'smiley' (sort of), and there was this twinge of creamy pink that coloured his cheeks. It looked suspiciously close to a _blush_.

"I would've asked if it was as a result of a fever, but I know it isn't since that small smile still hasn't left your face," Seonghwa said, causing San to crumple further into the sofa. "So...what's up?"

"It's nothing, Hwa," San answered. His fingers had started to hurt now, and he knew he must've picked at them too much.

He flinched when Seonghwa gently pulled out his left hand, his eyes dimming over with worry. "Seonghwa -- "

Seonghwa's eyes were wide as they settled on the bruises etched over his fingers. "S-San," his voice shook. "What's going on?"

San yanked his wrist off of Seonghwa's grip, finding it too tight. It reminded him of things he never wanted to remember, but before he could start to panic, he stood up, shoving the hand into his pockets.

"San, I'm so sorry," said Seonghwa.

 _Now, look what you've done. He was just trying to look out for you, but then you went ahead and fucked it up_. _You fuck everything up, including yourself_.

San felt pathetic. "It's -- " he inhaled, " _fine_."

"San."

"I'm going to my room," San told him, trying his best not to let Seonghwa's saddened eyes get to him.

San sank himself on his bed, and when he rubbed one eye, his fingers felt wet. He felt the remainder of his good mood go down the drain. His thoughts were so vivid and rampant that he almost didn't hear his phone ring at first.

He grabbed it, answering and pressing the device against his ear. He didn't even know who it was, as his eyesight was all fogged up with the tears he _refused_ to make fall.

_"Hey, Choi."_

San sniffled.

_"...San, are you there?"_

San didn't know how to reply, so he just kept his mouth shut, occasionally sniffing.

 _"Choi_ ," Wooyoung pressed, sounding annoyed. " _What is going on? Are -- are you crying? Answer me."_

"I..." San's voice freaking _broke_. "I'm not."

 _"You are,"_ Wooyoung replied after a few moments of silence. _"You're fucking crying."_

"I'm not crying."

 _"You are, but why? Why are you crying?"_ Wooyoung's voice was softer now, losing all its previous edginess. And for some strange reason, that made the tears in San's eyes much harder to contain.

"I don't k-know," San replied like the fucking pathetic sap that he was, and once again, the line on the other side grew quiet. _Fuck, you just had to scare him away with how disgustingly overdramatic you are, didn't you?_

 _"Don't cry,"_ Wooyoung said again. _"You're too nice to cry."_

"T-Trust me, I'm not."

 _"To me, you are,"_ Wooyoung assured. " _So stop crying, mmh? I don't like it at all. Makes me feel as if I did something wrong._ "

San clenched his eyes shut, his teeth gritted. "I'm," he hiccuped, "I'm _trying to._ "

 _"That's good, that's very good,"_ Wooyoung replied. " _And try to take deep breaths as well. Like, you'd hold your breath while I count to five, or something like that. I'm not too familiar with it. But, I just want you to calm down,_ _'kay_ _? I'd sing a song too but I can't sing for the life of me, and the goal is to calm you down, not scare you off_ ," he rambled, and _god_ , San felt like holding him and _never ever_ letting go.

_"Are you laughing at me, Choi?"_

San faced his phone, chuckling at it. He felt like a madman, tearing up and smiling at the same time. Gosh, what was _up_ with him today? Right. He'd _died_. But Wooyoung's voice stopped him from spiralling further into his head.

_"Don't tell me you slept on me, asshole."_

"I didn't." San cleared his throat.

A moment of silence passed, one where San just listened to the steady rhythm of Wooyoung's breathing from the other line, and then said male decided to speak up.

_"Do you...do this often?"_

San clicked off Wooyoung's contact picture that he'd been staring at seconds before, feeling as if the other boy could see what he'd just done through the screen. "W-What?"

" _Cry."_

"I don't."

_"How do I know you aren't lying?"_

"You don't."

_"Wow, so helpful."_

"Thanks."

A pause, and then a: _"Cut the call, I'm texting you because I'd feel really fucking awkward saying what I'm about to say with my_ _voice_ _."_

"Okay..." San did as the boy asked, patiently waiting for his text.

**\- wooyoung**   
_can we be friends_

**\- wooyoung**   
_i mean, can we be closer friends than before_

**\- wooyoung**   
_like, ya know, buddies_   
_ew_ _, i just cringed, but yeah_

**\- wooyoung**   
_buddies_

San stared at Wooyoung's messages, his mind racing with every possible scenario of how he could've replied.


	9. want you to want me

San kept to himself for most of the next day, not bothering to get distracted by anything else other than learning and writing down what he could. He could _feel_ Wooyoung's eyes on him though (since the guy seemed to attend most of his classes a lot more now), but he pretended as if he'd never noticed them. He was doing this purposefully, because if he didn't, he'd be wallowing deeper and deeper into his guilt.

His morning had been horrendous. He'd woken up late due to his alarm not ringing on time, and Seonghwa was already out by the time he grabbed a piece of fruit in the fridge, meaning he now couldn't apologize to him face to face for the time being. Seonghwa's little note on the table saying ' _Take some fruit from the fridge. Be healthy! :)'_ only served to worsen San's guilt.

And Wooyoung...just the thought of him made San practically _drown_ in guilt. He didn't know what else to do than to not look at him, too much of a coward to find out what the guy thought of him now.

He sighed in his seat as the bell rang for the next class. He just couldn't wait for this day to be over; for _everything_ to be over.

_* * *_

  
At lunch, San found himself inside the school gardens, seated at a stray bench. The weather was kind of nice around here; the sky was a clear blue, and the chill in the atmosphere wasn't cold enough to make him wish he'd brought a sweater along. A few students were around, but they didn't bother or interrupt San's thoughts.

San closed his eyes and inhaled a deep breath. Everything lately seemed too stressful to bear, but he'd tried so hard to not let it bother him. He just wanted a break, wanted to calm down. Maybe if he'd been born normal, his life would've turned out to be a lot less challenging. Maybe he'd have a good life, a nice family, and some great friends. Maybe he wouldn't endanger everyone he got close with. _Maybe, maybe, maybe_.

It seemed like his life was just a series of _maybe's_.

"Hey, don't fucking trip me, _idiot_!"

San's eyes opened, and he swore his heart almost jumped in his chest when he spotted Yunho walking past the garden with what appeared to be ice cream in his hand, his friends/minions trailing after him. The tall male had a smug look on his face as Wooyoung pushed him off.

San's gaze darted, trying to seem much more invisible than he already was. He didn't want Wooyoung seeing him.

"Fuck, you're hanging out with that loser again?" Yunho asked, his deep voice instantly recognizable. He didn't sound happy.

"It's for homework problems, asshole," Wooyoung replied with a smile, uncaring about how loud he could get at times. San, on the other hand, contemplated just running off.

He nearly fell off the bench when someone new collapsed into it. San knew who it was immediately, as the other male smelled of this specific cologne, as well as cigarette smoke, just like always.

"Choi."

San made it a point not to face him. "Hey."

"I know, I acted like a major dick earlier for ignoring you, but the payback wasn't really necessary. I do applaud you though, it really got me."

San turned to him then, his eyes fixed on his fingers. "I didn't... I didn't mean it."

"Didn't mean what?"

"What I told you yesterday," San cleared his throat, finally looking at Wooyoung. But, he soon wished he hadn't.

Surrounded by the nearly perfect weather, Wooyoung looked nothing less than _ethereal_ where he lay. His dark hair fell over his forehead, which was different from how he usually styled it, and his lips were the same shade as the pastel flowers that decorated the garden, gently tousled in the wind.

"What you told me yesterday?" Wooyoung questioned, teasing San further about it. He crossed his arms, and San's eyes couldn't help but linger on his chest. The boy's school shirt had been fully unbuttoned, revealing a black v-neck underneath that flashed an expanse of tanned skin and soft dips of collarbone. The tiny metal skull dangling from his chain blankly stared at San.

"When I..." San breathed, his mouth suddenly dry. He decided to focus on the sky instead. At least _t_ _hat_ didn't elevate his heartbeat. "When I replied to your text." He sunk his feet into the vibrant green grass. "Are you mad at me?"

Wooyoung blew out a puff of air, before pulling out something beside him that San hadn't noticed. A small cup of ice cream with a little spoon and everything.

"Of course I'm mad," he opened San's palm and placed the cup and spoon into his hand. "I mean, you rejected my offer for friendship, and you've got some guts too, rejecting your master."

"That again," San retorted without thinking.

"Yes, _that again_ ," Wooyoung mirrored. He smirked. "But, I soon realized that I couldn't get mad at you for long, even when you ruined my night."

"'M sorry," San mumbled.

Wooyoung leant into the bench, staring at nothing. San watched as his Adam's Apple bobbed, before promptly looking away again. God, what was he even _doing_?

"It's fine." The boy responded. "But I still do want us to be friends."

"So you can find out more stuff about me?"

Wooyoung's gaze focused on San. "Yes. But that isn't the only reason." He kicked his legs up and down. "You seem...nice. To be around, I mean." He continued to stare.

San took a nervous spoon out of the ice cream, fully, utterly, and highly aware of Wooyoung's eyes that never seemed to stray from his face. And hell, it made him want to crawl into a hole and hide in there for eternity.

He bit his lip and zeroed his eyes in on a patch of grass, wanting to know why Wooyoung was _staring_ at him so much. He wouldn't have minded it so much if he'd actually looked decent. "I look sleep-deprived, don't I?"

Wooyoung shook his head. "Actually... you look fine. Like, _g_ _ood_ , really."

Butterflies sprouted all about San's stomach, fluttering and twirling around and making him feel like an overall queasy mess. He disliked this feeling because it was foreign, not because it was negative.

He coughed. His pulse was _erratic_.

"You okay?" Wooyoung asked.

"Fine," he forced out.

"Cute or Honest."

"...Cute." San figured there was no use in lying. He felt _and_ probably looked like a mess as well. Fortunately, Wooyoung didn't dig further.

They spent the rest of lunch in silence, and when the bell rang, Wooyoung stood up and faced San.

"So... friends?"

San had a feeling he'd regret this, but for once, he was tired of being scared. He was tired of feeling guilty about everything.

"...Okay."


	10. me & you

**\- wooyoung**   
_i'm gonna run away_

**\- wooyoung**   
_follow me_

San rubbed his eyes to get rid of the sleep coating them. He'd just woken up solely to get a glass of water since it was the middle of the night on a Saturday, only for Wooyoung's text messages to stop him in his tracks.

**\- san**   
_u okay?_

**\- wooyoung**   
_no_

San's lips pulled into a frown.

**\- san**   
_why?_

**\- wooyoung**   
_six words: people that gave birth to me_

**\- san**   
_oh_

**\- wooyoung**   
_so, i'm running away_

**\- san**   
_do you even have the money to?_

**\- wooyoung**   
_no, i'm only in my pjs_   
_but still_   
_i want to leave_   
_and ur coming w me_

**\- san**   
_you dont even know where i live_

**\- wooyoung**   
_then let's meet_

San sat up. By now, all sleep had been wiped off from him.

**\- san**   
_its 12 am_

**\- wooyoung**   
_horizon diner, its open_   
_dont tell anyone_

**\- wooyoung**   
_and no questions_

Luckily, San had already passed by that diner a couple of times before whenever he'd gone out with Seonghwa, but that didn't mean he wanted to leave the house to go meet Wooyoung at freaking _midnight_. The guy didn't even want him telling anyone of his whereabouts, which meant that he couldn't say anything to Seonghwa.

 _You idiot. Why are you even listening to him anyway?_ San's mind argued, but he'd already begun to pull out the nearest hoodie, which was a peach coloured one, over his head. San didn't feel comfortable leaving the house at this hour, but he told himself that it wouldn't take long, and that Seonghwa was asleep anyways. He didn't want to disturb his cousin, since the man already worried too much to begin with.

And besides, this was _Wooyoung_ he was talking about. This confusing, yet frighteningly irresistible guy that had managed to weave his way into San's dreary life so quickly.

Since Wooyoung had mentioned he hadn't brought any money along, San shoved a couple of spare change into his pockets, just in case Wooyoung felt like getting anything.

In under five minutes, he'd already locked the door, quietly walking down the lit street. He kept his gaze low, shifting past the minimal amount of people loitering around the area. He checked his phone, quickening his steps when he saw the time.

 _12:10 am_.

Spotting the _Horizon_ diner a few feet away, San marched towards the doors and entered, adjusting his eyes to the place's low lighting.

Only a handful of people were there, which was both a good and bad thing. Good in the sense that he'd be able to spot Wooyoung more easily, bad in the sense that the sparse amount of people only heightened his nerves.

His phone buzzed, and he took it out.

**\- wooyoung**   
_turn to the left_   
_m not that hard to spot_

San did as Wooyoung asked, seeing the other boy at the far left side of the diner, his form hunched over his table. San released the breath he'd been holding.

He walked over to Wooyoung, sliding into the seat across from him. It took a second to realize why Wooyoung had chosen a relatively dark place to run to.

Dark spots that looked like bruises littered his face, especially around the jaw area, and his eyes were empty with dark shadows underlining them.

"Wooyoung..." San whispered.

"You look good in peach," Wooyoung chose to reply. San didn't even have the time to get all flustered over his compliment. The image of the other's bruised features etched itself into his mind, filling it until he could think of nothing else. And for some reason, all he could feel was guilt.

"Wooyoung, what happened?" San asked.

"No questions," Wooyoung's tone was stubborn. "That's what I said."

"I want to know what happened," San pressed. The guilt he felt had started to turn into anger. "Who the fuck did this to you? Your parents?"

Wooyoung fiddled around with the menu, long lashes fanning his cheeks. Even with the marks on his face, he still looked so heart-stoppingly _beautiful_. That only made San feel a lot more angry about the situation the boy was in. He didn't deserve to get beaten up, he didn't deserve it at all.

"Woo," the nickname slipped out of San's mouth before he could stop it, and it made the other smile. But the smile lacked all emotion.

"Cute nickname."

"I...I wish you'd talk to me," San begged. "You called me out here for a reason, right?"

"I came because I wanted to fucking see you," Wooyoung finally looked up, but not at San. Instead, he blinked up at the neon lights that shone through the area, his eyes similar to a dark, reflective sea. "I just wanted to _be_ around someone who didn't make me feel like I shouldn't fucking exist." His gaze finally met the other boy's own. "I wanted you to talk to me, because maybe, _maybe_ you'd make me feel alright."

Donned in his pyjamas, Wooyoung looked like a little kid. He sniffed. "I don't like crying..."

San gulped, Wooyoung's words had gotten to him. He shifted closer, hating how _lost_ the other boy seemed. "I hate crying too... But, it's not a bad thing to let it out once in a while." He felt like such a hypocrite uttering these words, but he just wanted -- no, _needed_ Wooyoung to be okay again.

"Crying sucks."

"I know..."

Wooyoung hid the bottom half of his face with his sleeve. "Bet I look like a mess right now."

"No," San began, "you look great."

"Thanks for the sarcasm. Really appreciate it." Wooyoung's chuckle was heavy with hidden emotions.

"I mean it, though." _Just, shut up. Shut up, San. Stop talking_.

A tear slid down Wooyoung's cheek, and, acting on plain impulse, San reached out and wiped it off with his thumb.

After he realized what he just did, he quickly dropped his hand, wanting to dig a huge hole in the ground just for himself.

Wooyoung, on the other hand, just smiled. "Thank you."

San nodded, playing with his drawstrings. "You aren't calling me names anymore."

"What," the black haired male flashed a crooked smirk, even when his eyes still looked hollow. "You liked it when I called you mean names? Did you have a thing for them, or something?"

San cleared his throat. "You can call me anything you want. I...I don't care as long as it makes you happy."

Wooyoung groaned, raking his fingers down his hair. "Hey, Choi, can you stop being so goddamn _cheesy_ for once?" He sounded exasperated, but his smile never left. In fact, it looked more _real_ now. "Makes me feel like a jerk in comparison."

"You aren't a jerk."

"I _am_ , and that's why I'm still gonna order you around to make _myself_ happy," Wooyoung admitted.

San's eyes met his, his stomach twisting and turning when the other boy grinned at him. San couldn't resist smiling as well, even if his was much smaller in comparison.

"Well, what do you want me to do for you?" He asked.

And that was how Choi San -- a boy who'd been nothing more than a shell moulded for destruction under Fate's cruel snare -- had ended up giving Jung Wooyoung -- the boy who made him just _forget_ \-- a piggyback ride down the sidewalk in the middle of the freaking night.

"Aren't you going home soon?" San had asked him at one point.

Wooyoung's head just laid on the boy's back, his fingers tapping over his skin. He was so _warm_ , and that discovery had San's ears burning to oblivion.

"Nah. I'm in too much of a good mood right now."

And, San couldn't disagree with him.


	11. save me

On Monday morning, Seonghwa passed San a glass of orange juice to go with his breakfast, noting how the younger had woken up earlier than usual. It wasn't even five am yet.

"You woke up quite early," Seonghwa asked, taking a seat. "You good?"

"I'm good," San breathed out. He didn't want to burden his cousin further. His reasons for being unable to sleep were dumb, and he couldn't distract Seonghwa from his studies.

His fingers wrapped around his glass, wanting something to keep them occupied with. He took a drink, though, when he'd noticed Seonghwa's eyes on his hands.

"...You know you can always tell me anything, right?" Seonghwa told him.

San took another small sip of the juice. "I know."

He stared at his cousin, and could see the questions swimming in the older's eyes. Seonghwa, even from the start, had always cared enough to want to know if he was okay, even when the rest of his family didn't. He also had the potential to act all mother-like whenever he sensed the need to, and usually, San didn't mind. But today wasn't one of those days.

"I want you to trust me, San," Seonghwa said. "I won't do anything bad to you."

San's grip on the glass strengthened. "I know you won't."

"So please, whatever's on your mind, tell it to me. I just," Seonghwa sighed. "I'm _worried_ about you, San."

 _Cute, or Honest version?_ Wooyoung's voiced echoed through San's mind, over and over again. He pushed his glass of orange juice away.

"I'm fine, really." He replied his cousin. "I have someone at school that I -- I _talk_ to at times. Everything's fine."

 _I fucking hate lies_.

San shut off Wooyoung's voice in his head, trying his hardest to focus on the now.

"Really?" Seonghwa grinned. His eyes looked tired but glad, and San couldn't help but wonder if his cousin would've found more reasons to smile if he hadn't been born in the first place.

His fingers curled, digging into the skin of his palms. His knuckles turned white. "Yes."

"That's good. Is the person in your class?"

"Yes." At least San was now telling the truth.

"Boy or girl?"

"...Boy."

Seonghwa gently patted his fist. "I'm so happy you've found a friend."

But San, at that particular moment in time, felt nothing close to happy.

_* * *_

  
San's mood continued to plummet when he entered the school. He'd had several days like this before, days where he just wanted to vanish into the air and just _get lost_. Days where breathing made him want to throw up, because _what was he even doing in the world, anyway?_

The voices of other students blurred into static noise in his head, entering through one ear and out the other. His head was emptied out of any thought, and his limbs felt like dead weight.

Something hard bumped into him. San didn't react fast enough, causing him to almost fall.

He froze, eyes staring into blank ones that belonged to none other than Jung Yunho.

The taller male stood there with two of his friends behind him, cruel smirks on both their faces.

San looked away, prepared to go to the locker section when Yunho grabbed his wrist. On instinct, San yanked it back.

Yunho's jaw clenched. "Didn't your mom teach you some fucking manners? Or, maybe you think you can fuck with me just 'cause Wooyoung talked to you one time?"

San shook his head. "S-Sorry," he let out. His head hurt, and his emotions were already unstable from the moment he woke up. He just wanted Yunho and his crew to _leave him alone_.

Yunho shoved his chest, his expression tainted with a scowl. "God, just your face alone makes me so _angry_. And it's even worse when you look so familiar but I can't even fuckin' remember when I'd last seen you." He shoved San even harder. "Aren't you gonna apologize for pissing me off, too?"

 _Don't touch me, don't touch me, don't touch me._ San imagined shoving Yunho instead, imagined punching the guy across his stupid face, but he knew he stood no chance against the taller in real life. And it made him all the more hopeless.

"Hey, Yunho -- " one of his minions called out to the guy.

" _What_?" Yunho snapped, but before he could say anything else, a new male had joined the conversation. Almost immediately, his face smoothened. "...Good morning."

" _Get lost_ ," the other male answered rather sharply, his low voice cutting its way into the storm that made up San's thoughts.

San watched as Yunho rose his hands in surrender, unable to believe what he was currently seeing.

"Okay," was all Yunho replied with, preparing to leave.

"Wait," one of his friends said, "seriously? It's _just_ Mingi -- "

Yunho just walked off, but not before he gave a final glance at San that sent a cold chill racing down his spine. His minions scurried right behind him.

San realized he was suffocating, and let out the breath he'd been holding all this time.

"...You okay?" The person -- _Mingi_ , asked, alerting San's attention. His voice was calming, despite how husky it was, and when San looked up, he was met with kind, yet fatigued eyes, and soft red hair.

San nodded. At least his heartbeat had slowed down a bit. "Y-Yeah. And uh, thanks, for helping me."

Mingi waved a dismissive hand, but his expression hardened. "It's no biggie. Those guys are assholes. Do they always bother you like this?"

San licked his bottom lip. "No." Braving another glance at Mingi, he realized he'd never really seen the guy around school before. "Are -- are you new?" He found himself asking. He hoped he didn't sound rude or anything.

Mingi just smiled, the action softening the intimidating vibe he'd had going on by a lot.

"I'm not, not really." He explained. "Spent some months studying at home and getting treatment. But I decided to return to school because I missed being here, surprisingly."

"Oh, okay," San was curious, so, so curious, but he just couldn't go about asking Mingi question upon question. The guy was one of the few people at that school that was actually nice to him, and he didn't really feel like ruining that.

It was during study hall that blood ran down San's nose, wetting a small part of his math notebook. Quickly, he took out a wad of tissue from his bag and cleaned it, and that was the end of it. Which was strange. Whenever he bled, he'd bleed and bleed until he fainted, but this time around, the blood didn't take time to stop flowing.

 _Maybe it's just due to stress_ , he thought. He convinced himself that that was the case.

_* * *_

San missed Wooyoung's presence during lunch since the other male hadn't even bothered coming to school today. He sat at the library, alone in his thoughts. If Wooyoung had been around right now, he'd probably be secretly passing snacks over to San to try and get him to eat something, whilst managing to annoy and fluster him at the same time.

_Stop thinking about him, idiot_ , he cautioned himself. _You're just friends_.

Hidden by the empty tables and chairs surrounding him, he pulled out his phone and stared at Wooyoung's contact picture for more than he absolutely needed to. _You can't afford to catch feelings for him_.

His thumb stroked over the screen, admiring the other male's features. _He isn't even into guys, goddammit,_ his mind tried again, but San, for once, wasn't even listening to the bitter voice in his head.

  
He stared off into space, wondering what he should type.

**\- san**   
_what should i eat if i crave a certain someone's company?_

Wooyoung answered within a few minutes.

**\- wooyoung**   
_water_

San giggled.

**\- san**   
_nah, i'm not that into it_

**\- wooyoung**   
_then how tf r u alive_

**\- san**   
_i have no idea_

**\- wooyoung**   
_depressing ass_

**\- san**   
_why_ _arent_ _you at school?_

Wooyoung took some time to reply.

**\- wooyoung**   
_no one bothered u today, right?_

**\- san**   
_you're changing the subject_

**\- wooyoung**   
_u are too_

**\- san**   
_no i'm not_

**\- wooyoung**   
_look, i have to go now_

San switched off his phone, annoyed that Wooyoung had totally avoided answering his question, even when he knew he had no right to. He'd done the same to Seonghwa, held up that aloof wall that made it extremely difficult for someone else to penetrate through. And when the realization hit that he and Wooyoung were more alike than he'd ever imagined, it scared him.

_* * *_

  
San avoided the area Yunho and his friends smoked at as soon as his classes were done with, racing down the steps, earbuds pushed in his ears. He couldn't risk another confrontation with the guy, even if it was cowardly of him.

He walked down the street, trying to clear his head when his ears buzzed. _Not again_. Abruptly, he pulled out his earbuds and shoved them into his pocket. Rushing past the pedestrians, he tried to look for a place where he could hide before the blood started to appear.

"Fuck," San whispered. Almost everywhere he looked, people were around, and not a single hideaway spot was present.

He wiped his nose, and blood coated his shaking fingers. With his free hand, he hurriedly dialled Seonghwa's number, only for the call not to go through.

"Come on, pick up. Pick up, Hwa. _Please_ ," San begged. The sky had begun to darken, and the white clouds had expanded, turning gloomier in colour. _Seonghwa, pick up, please._

San tried his best to wipe off the blood that gushed out from his nostrils, but he couldn't handle it much longer. The flow wasn't excessive, it just _wouldn't stop_.

As the first few drops of rain started to fall, San clicked through his contacts, his heart in his throat.

He couldn't think properly. He just wanted this to stop, wanted to be somewhere safe and sound, and in the arms of someone who could get rid of his distress and _comfort him_. That was all he'd ever wanted.

San called Wooyoung, but the boy didn't pick up. He stared at the sky, forcing himself to lean against the back of some house. It was still drizzling by the time he crouched underneath its roof, but the sound of his phone's ringtone drowned it all out.

San picked the call and covered his entire nose with a bunch of tissue. "Woo..."

_"Where the fuck are you? You better be home right now."_

San weakly smiled. "I'm not..."

" _Why not? It's raining so freaking hard outside."_

"I'm in front," San inhaled deeply, "in front of this yellow-ish house a couple meters away from the school." He inhaled yet again. "Can you...can you come pick me up? Don't know if you have a car or anything..."

Wooyoung, surprisingly, didn't ask him why he couldn't just take the bus, and San was both glad and relieved he didn't. He shut his eyes after the other boy ended the call, feeling like some of his energy had left him. _How would you explain this to him?_ He asked himself, but to be honest, he had no idea what excuse he would give. All he wanted right now was to sleep forever. And if only he could...


	12. home away from home

_It's gonna be your thirteenth birthday soon,_ _Sannie_ _. What do you want for your birthday?_

_Nothing much really, Mom. I just really want all of us to be happy with each other._

  
_God, son, you're so sweet._

_Thanks, Dad!_

  
_We're so lucky to have a son like you..._

San opened his eyes, and immediately felt drenched in the cold. His surroundings, which appeared to be some kind of room, were dark, save for the small window at the corner that blew in some wind through pale curtains.

He suddenly sat up, panic flushing down his veins. Where _was_ he? This place didn't look like his own bedroom. But that was when he remembered the reason he'd been brought here in the first place.

_Fuck, where am I?_

San forced himself onto his feet, wincing at the cold tiles below that sent shivers down his spine. Then, he set his sights on the doorknob, because wherever he was right now, he really needed to leave. _Where was his phone?_

The doorknob suddenly turned, and in stepped a girl that San had never seen before in his life. She had brown hair that was short and softly curled, and her eyes were lined with mascara that only highlighted how round they were. She was dressed in an oversized olive green shirt and shorts, but was barefoot.

San froze where he stood, but she just smiled at him. She seemed friendly.

"Oh -- hi," she beamed. A manicured finger gestured to the light switch. "Sorry for leaving the lights off. We figured you'd rest better if they were turned off instead of on."

_We?_

San just nodded, since his throat felt too dry to try and attempt speaking.

"And, I'm Nina, by the way," she introduced. "And this is my house." She pointed at San's shirt. "And that's Wooyoung's shirt you're wearing."

"W-Wooyoung?" At that, San stared at the black shirt he had on, noting that his school shirt was nowhere to be seen. He briefly wondered who'd changed the shirt for him, but decided not to linger on the thought since he didn't want to get his hopes up.

"Do you want something?" Nina asked. "We should go join the others outside. But I warn you though, they're kinda weird. And loud. But you'll love them. I mean, you've already met Wooyoung, so."

She seemed to want to befriend him, and it left San wondering if she -- or any of the others, really -- knew of, or witnessed the way he'd bled. He wondered if _Wooyoung_ saw the blood.

San fought the urge to flinch when Nina suddenly held his hand, dragging him out of the room with that same bright smile on her face. Just as she'd predicted, he could already hear voices coming from the livingroom. The entire area seemed lit up in amber lights, and the large TV in the livingroom was airing some show that two guys huddled together on a burgundy sofa were watching.

"Ooh, is that San?" One of the guys asked. He was quite thin, with sandy blond hair and a delicate, cute face. San felt like hiding behind Nina when his inquisitive eyes peered over at him, no matter how dumb it sounded.

Before Nina could respond, someone stepped in through the kitchen, a large bag of chips in hand. San's breath hitched in his throat when his eyes met Wooyoung's. The other's face was blank (as it usually looked), but his eyes mirrored relief.

"San," he spoke, and San naturally felt himself drifting off to him. He was donned in this grey tanktop that showed off just how fit he was, and he didn't seem to notice how flustered San got because of it. "You're awake." He popped a chip into his mouth.

San nervously rubbed his arm. "Yeah... And, you're eating."

"Yeah." Wooyoung looked like he was trying to refrain himself from tackling San to the ground and hugging him. At least, that was what San felt he'd wanted to do. "Want some?"

"Don't finish it all, greedy ass!" A new voice exclaimed from the sofa. It came from the other guy that San had seen watching that tv show. Unlike the first guy, however, he was pretty muscly.

Wooyoung glared at him. "Jongho, shut the fuck up. I _brought_ this."

"But like, sharing is caring," Jongho responded. San could see that Nina had joined him on the sofa, his arm around her waist. San hadn't even noticed her leaving them.

Wooyoung sighed, but he stepped closer to San, his bare arm brushing against San's own. "San, I'm gonna introduce these three idiots to you, and listen well 'cause you won't be seeing them after today."

Nina flipped Wooyoung off, but she was laughing. She and the guys seemed close with Wooyoung, and San wondered what their relationship was. It felt like the more he knew Wooyoung, the less he actually knew about the other. It was weird, really.

Wooyoung's voice brought him back to the present. "So, this is Nina," he pointed at the girl San had first seen. "This is her house, and since her parents travelled out for like, two weeks, we can camp in here and leech off all her food."

At this Nina laughed, and San found himself smiling a bit. Her laughter was contagious.

Wooyoung, though, nudged him in the arm. His eyes were narrowed at San. "You can't like her. She's in a relationship."

"I -- I wasn't -- " San began, but Wooyoung had already moved on to the next person, his lips down-turned.

"And this is Jongho," he pointed at the more built one of the two guys. At this, Jongho flashed them a gummy smile that made him appear less daunting. "He's Nina's boyfriend. And this is Yeosang," Wooyoung pointed at the last guy in the room, "Nina's _other_ boyfriend."

Yeosang gave San a small wave. "Is it weird?"

San shook his head, feeling shy with all the attention he was getting. "Nah, not really."

"Then I already like you," Yeosang answered.

Wooyoung looked unimpressed. "Anyway, they're in college but I hang out with them at times." He looked at San, and whispered: "Let's talk in the kitchen."

"At least pass us that bag of chips first," Nina said, but Wooyoung just blew her a raspberry, dragging a nervous San into the kitchen area.

The shouts and exclaims coming from the livingroom dissipated into mild background noise, and San watched as Wooyoung took a seat on the squeaky clean counter, staring down at him like he was... _studying_ him.

San gulped. "Uhm."

Wooyoung chuckled. He looked so _good_ just sitting there, like this untouchable king that sat miles and miles above his lowly servants. He took another bite of his chips.

"...How are they?" He asked San. The crunching sound emitted from his mouth filled the tense silence that suddenly encircled them.

San's thumb picked at his nails. "They're nice."

Wooyoung hummed. He leisurely swung his feet over the counter, and San would have found the action overwhelmingly cute if he hadn't noticed the dark look that had fallen over the other's features.

"Yeosang was the one who drove me over to where you were," Wooyoung continued. He placed the bag of chips on the counter, and patted the spot next to him. "Sit."

San did, trying to make himself as small as he possibly could. "I'm sorry."

Wooyoung glanced over at him. "For what?"

San glared at his knees. His fingers itched so badly to hold onto something. "For all the blood you had probably seen."

"I didn't care about the blood."

San stared the boy next to him, swallowing hard when Wooyoung stared at him too. "What?"

"You looked just about _dead_ when I found you, and I totally freaked the fuck out. I didn't even calm down until Yeosang guessed that maybe you'd fainted since you were still breathing, so we brought you over to Nina's place. She and Jongho didn't ask much questions, mostly because I told Yeosang not to tell them anything about the blood we saw when we came to get you. Then Nina prepared the room you slept in, Jongho put your shirt to wash since it looked dirty, and then I got you changed into another shirt." Wooyoung pulled on San's sleeve. "It's one of my favourite shirts."

San coughed, and tried to hide the way his face burned. "I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing."

"Sorry -- " San shut his mouth.

Wooyoung burst into laughter, and then reached out, but paused. "Can...can I touch you?"

Blood rushed into San's face. He didn't like it when people touched him, but at that moment, he felt like he wouldn't mind someone's touch all that much. Especially if that someone was Wooyoung. "...Okay..."

Wooyoung stroked San's hair, slowly, tenderly, inching lower until he rubbed his nape. His hand felt soft and warm, and sent pleasant shivers through San's body.

"You remind me of a dog."

Those pleasant shivers transformed into a punch in the gut. San blinked. "What?"

"You're just so..." Wooyoung patted his chin for the right word to say. "Fuckin' adorable. I feel like protecting you."

San shyly looked away. "Okay."

Wooyoung placed a hand on his knee, and for the first time in a long time, San didn't flinch. "...I'll tell a secret of mine if you tell me a secret of yours."

"L-Like what?" San questioned.

"I know you're wondering why I'm staying here instead of my actual house," Wooyoung began as he stared off into space. "Truth is, Yebin, my older sister, found a cigarette in my room's window, and so Dad kicked me out for the time being."

San's heart dropped. He felt horrible. "I'm so sorry."

"Stop apologizing," Wooyoung replied, waving him off. "It's fine." His tone bordered on nonchalant, and San had to wonder, _was he used to this?_

"That's a shitty thing for a dad to do," San admitted. He clenched his fist, automatically hating whoever Wooyoung's father was.

"Don't dwell on it." Wooyoung smirked, but it didn't reflect on his eyes. "Now, it's _your_ turn. So..."

"So..."

San yelped when Wooyoung smacked his arm, but he was soon chuckling. However, once his eyes fell on Yeosang, who was showing Nina something on his phone on the sofa, he almost leapt off the counter as he remembered Seonghwa. _Shit, shit, shit, shit_.

"What is it?" Wooyoung asked as he'd seen the alarmed look on San's face.

"My phone."

"It's in your bag, which is in my temporary room," Wooyoung raised an eyebrow. "What's up?"

"I-I need to call my cousin." San pushed himself off the counter, shame consuming him as he imagined how worried Seonghwa must've been right now because of him. "I need to tell him I'm fine. I -- I need to go home right now and see him."

Wooyoung's hand held him in place. "Okay, first -- _chill_. Take a deep breath. Also -- you can't leave now because it's still raining _cats and dogs_ outside. And also, you still haven't told me your secret."

San tried to calm himself down. "What secret?"

Wooyoung jumped off the counter, and then walked up to him. San felt cornered by the dark haired male's presence, and inhaled a sharp breath. Wooyoung smiled knowingly.

"Tell me what your deal is with blood."

Luckily, Wooyoung's friends were still occupied with one another, too busy to notice what was going on. San picked his nail as his anxiety grew, but then immediately winced after.

"Shit," Wooyoung cursed, grabbing his hand. That was when San spotted the small dot of red on his finger. "I'm getting you a bandaid for that."

"Let me talk to my cousin first." San's voice was shaking.

"I'm cleaning this up first."

"Wooyoung."

" _San_." Wooyoung pinched his nose in frustration, but kept his voice lowered. "For god's sake, you just hurt yourself, and I want to help. So let me _help_."

"Seonghwa will be worried sick. I'm _calling him_ ," San pressed stubbornly.

Wooyoung let him go and stepped back. "Fine." He walked out of the kitchen, and San followed him, assuming the former was leading him to his temporary room. Once they entered, he passed San his phone without a word, but he then proceeded to search the drawers for something.

San sat on Wooyoung's bed, noting how bare everything looked despite its commendable size, and started calling Seonghwa.

Seonghwa picked up really quickly.

_"San? San -- Where are you?"_

"I'm -- " San looked around, only to discover that Wooyoung was now beside him. "I'm at a friend's house."

Wooyoung moved behind him, and San held a breath, wondering what the boy was going to do next.

 _"Really? God, I'm so glad. I was so worried that something had happened to you,"_ Seonghwa sounded so relieved.

San flashed a small smile. "I'm okay. I'm actually planning on coming back home after -- "

Wooyoung's breath warmed his shoulder, and his hair tickled his cheek.

 _"What? San?"_ Seonghwa asked.

San's toes curled, butterflies prickling the inside of his stomach. Wooyoung's arms were around him as reached out to grab the hand that was injured. San watched with wide eyes as Wooyoung softly held his finger, wiping the blood off and wrapping a bandaid around it.

"Now you're fine," the dark haired boy muttered. His body felt so _warm_ behind San's back.

"Y-Yeah," San answered Seonghwa. "I was saying that I'll head home once the rain stops."

_"Okay, San. It's fine. Take your time, and stay safe."_

Soon, Seonghwa ended the call, and San just sat there, not knowing how to address the elephant in the room.

Wooyoung blew air into his ear, cackling when San squeaked. "Bro, why are you so freakin' stiff right now?" He tickled San's back, his smile growing even wider when the other boy squiggled out of his grip. "You're afraid of tickles? _Awww_."

San laid still on Wooyoung's bed after the other suddenly tackled him, giggles flowing out of his lips.

"I'm not mad at you anymore," Wooyoung told him, finally letting San go. San, in the meantime, was pretty sure his entire face was red.

"You're not mad at me anymore?" San mirrored, voice coming out pathetically small.

Wooyoung pinched his cheek. "Nah, cutie." He looked so attractive at that moment, and the impulsive part of San wondered what would happen if he reached out and just...held Wooyoung close to him.

Wooyoung sat up, but still maintained eye contact with San. "But, I still want to know why you bled earlier."


	13. it gets better?

San didn't tell Wooyoung everything. Only that sometimes he bled out and sometimes it made him black out. He'd tried to keep his explanation as vague as he possibly could, even when he knew that Wooyoung would probably question things later. He kept the fact that bleeding out, especially in large amounts, meant that he'd 'died', and that his death meant the death of others. He didn't want Wooyoung thinking of him as some monster.

But as he laid on his bed late that night, sleeplessness gnawing over his skin under the guise of insomnia, San started to wonder if telling Wooyoung about this problem was indeed the right thing to do.

**\- wooyoung**   
_san, stop ignoring me_   
_i know ur up_   
_ur reading my texts_

**\- san**   
_i'm asleep_ _zZz_

**\- wooyoung**   
_well have a nice night_

**\- san**   
_thank you_

**\- wooyoung**   
_bish u thought_

**\- wooyoung**   
_i have sum questions_

**\- san**   
_its 2am_   
_i have school_ _tmr_   
_u have school_ _tmr_

**\- wooyoung**   
_i dont give a shit about school_

**\- san**   
_ok_ _edgelord_

**\- wooyoung**   
_ooh ur so bold in text_   
_but then i see u irl and_   
_you're like_ _'dont_ _hurt me_ _plith'_

**\- san**   
_i'm not like that_

**\- wooyoung**   
_iM_ _nOt liKe tHaT_

**\- san**   
_why are you so mean to me_

_\- wooyoung_ _is typing..._

_\- wooyoung_ _is typing..._

_\- wooyoung_ _is typing..._

San stared at his phone in confusion, and he wondered if he'd done something wrong. Being around Wooyoung oftentimes felt like walking on eggshells, he didn't know if the next move he made would be his last.

**\- san**   
_what's wrong?_

**\- wooyoung**   
_do you bleed from everywhere, or do you bleed from just your nose_

**\- san**   
_why the sudden subject change_

**\- wooyoung**   
_i got fucking bored_

**\- san**   
_mean_

**\- wooyoung**   
_also my mom called a few hours ago._

**\- san**   
_really?_

**\- wooyoung**   
_she called solely just to grate it into my skull that if i was just a more_ _'proper'_ _son, then maybe my dad wouldn't hate me so much. didn't even ask how i was or anything, considering the fact that i haven't been home for like, three days_

**\- wooyoung**   
_and after that, i smoked, a lot, but then i stopped because even that got really exhausting. also_ _nina_ _got annoyed with all the cigarette smoke in the house_

**\- wooyoung**   
_and now i can't sleep_   
_and i'm bored_   
_and still so, so exhausted_

**\- wooyoung**   
_and i just want to talk to someone who will make me feel like i'm useful_

**\- wooyoung**   
_'cause i don't know if i am_

**\- san**   
_u are_

**\- san**   
_you're useful_

**-** **wooyoung**   
_how_

San chewed hard on his lip. Wooyoung's messages had managed to mess with his mind in the worst way possible, mostly because he unfortunately had frequent thoughts like those as well. He himself, often wondered what his usefulness was when all he did on this planet was hurt others and himself.

**\- san**   
_listen, no one is perfect_   
_and you cant please everyone_   
_and not everyone can like you_   
_and sometimes people don't get what they deserve since life's unfair_

**\- san**   
_but, i think you're as close to perfect as one can get_   
_and you distract me from the bad_   
_and i like spending time with you_   
_and i think you deserve everything good in the world_

**\- san**   
_and, even though sometimes you can be mean to me, and u cuss an awful lot_   
_i still like it when you're around_   
_because you help me,_   
_and i know you care_

**\- san**   
_and, i care about you too_   
_and_ _even_ _if your family doesn't_   
_you have people around u who do_

**\- san**   
_and i hope that's enough_   
_but if it isn't_   
_you now know that there's at least a person in the world who u can talk to_

**\- san**   
_and even if that one person is me_   
_i'll be happy that i'm lucky enough to be the_ _one_ _you confide in_

As soon as San sent those texts, he felt like deleting them. _You idiot, why'd you send him those? How desperate are you?_

He bit his thumbnail, nerves ablaze with worry.

_\- wooyoung is typing..._

**\- wooyoung**   
_i don't know what to say_   
_like really_   
_i'm speechless_

**\- wooyoung**   
_thank you, san_

**\- wooyoung**  
 _my heart rn:_  
💙💜❤️💘💝💖💞💗💕❣️💟💛🧡❤️❤️💕💘💝💗  
 _my head rn:_  
🤯🤯🥰😊🥺🥺🌝😇🙃😙😃😌  
 _my face rn:_  
🙈👀🙈

San burst into a quiet chuckle.

**\- san**   
_thats oddly specific_

**\- wooyoung**   
_tell me san, do u like me??_

All San could hear at that moment was the hard _thump thump_ of his heart.

**\- san**   
_nooooo_   
_also the blood thing_   
_do u still wanna know_

**\- wooyoung**   
_hmmm_   
_but okkkk_

**\- san**   
_i mean, i do like u_   
_but like, in a friend way_

**\- wooyoung**   
_okkkkkkk_

**\- san**   
_stop teasing me_

**\- wooyoung**   
_if you dont like me then,,_   
_then are u interested in other guys_

**\- san**   
_so about the blood thing_

**\- wooyoung**   
_are u gay_

**\- san**   
_wooyounngg_

**\- wooyoung**   
_saaannnn_   
_do you have a crush on someone_

**\- san**   
_sometimes the blood flow gets so much that i don't wake up for hours, and its really messy and really gross, nothing like what you saw earlier_

**\- wooyoung**   
_san, is that normal?_

**\- san**   
_no, its not_   
_and its a part of me that i so desperately hate_

**\- wooyoung**   
_come on, you can't hate yourself_

**\- san**   
_why_

**\- wooyoung**   
_u cant hate_ _urself_ _when there are worse people to hate, like criminals_

**\- wooyoung**   
_as long as you dont intentionally hurt others and aren't a piece of shit person, you shouldn't hate yourself_

**\- san**   
_what if i hurt others just by breathing?_

**\- wooyoung**   
_k_   
_guess its my turn now to shower u in compliments and make you feel wanted_

**-** **san**   
_its nearly 3 am_

**\- wooyoung**   
_just accept this, mostly because i suck at giving compliments irl, so treasure this opportunity_

**\- san**   
_u_ _rlly_ _dont need to_

**\- wooyoung**   
_shhh_

**\- wooyoung**   
_okay_   
_where do i begin_

**\- wooyoung**   
_you're like, super shy_   
_and usually i hate those kind of people since that trait really irritates me_   
_but you're tolerable_

**\- wooyoung**   
_and you're nice to me, really nice_   
_even when i'm mean to you_   
_and even when i act like a huge asshole at times_

**\- wooyoung**   
_ur freckles are cute_

**\- wooyoung**   
_really cute_

**\- wooyoung**   
_n you pout a lot_   
_like a baby_   
_n u blush a lot too_   
_its cute_

**\- wooyoung**   
_and i like your nose,_   
_and i'd like to boop it sometime_

**\- wooyoung**   
_and ur dimples are_ _firee_

**\- san**   
_wooyoung..._

**\- wooyoung**   
_your eyes remind me of a fox_   
_and i happen to like foxes_

**\- wooyoung**   
_and if its because of that bleeding thing that you hate yourself, then at least you have someone like me around now to help_

**\- san**   
_i feel like crying_

**\- wooyoung**   
_don't cry, prettyboy_

**\- san**   
_prettyboy?_

**\- wooyoung**   
_what?_

**\- wooyoung**   
_you're pretty_

**\- wooyoung**   
_and i'm sure whoever you end up dating will be lucky to have you_

**\- wooyoung**   
_okay_   
_nice wooyoung:_ _off_   
_jerk wooyoung: on_

**\- wooyoung**   
_how was that, asshole_

If San got a penny everytime he'd smiled and blushed reading Wooyoung's texts, he would've been a _millionaire_ by now. If what he felt was anything to go by, then he was pretty sure that Wooyoung made him _feel things_ , things that weren't so platonic. And he didn't like it, because that would just complicate things.

**\- san**   
_it was...nice_   
_i liked it_

**\- wooyoung**   
_i'm glad you did, prettyboy_

_Prettyboy_ _, prettyboy, prettyboy_. The more San thought of the word, the hotter his ears felt. It was just some word, so why did it affect him so much? And why didn't he mind it?

 _You're pretty._ San remembered the other's compliment. Was he really? Or was Wooyoung just saying that because he felt he _had_ to?

**\- san**   
_wow_   
_from_ _'asshole'_ _to_ _'prettyboy'_ _?_   
_what a_ _glowup_

**\- wooyoung**   
_what a glowup indeed lmaooo_   
_but i mean it tho_

**\- san**   
_what?_

**\- wooyoung**   
_you being pretty_

**\- san**   
_shut up_

**\- wooyoung**   
_prettyboy_   
_ur the prettiest prettyboy_   
_the cutest prettyboy_   
_the_ _babiest_ _prettyboy_

**\- san**   
_good night_

**\- wooyoung**   
_night, san :)_

San threw his phone to the side, sighing happily. Wooyoung, as always, confused him to no end, but maybe that wasn't such a bad thing.


	14. lost hopes

It was Wednesday evening now, and as Wooyoung sat on Nina's family's porch, he admired the orange glowing sunset. His phone was in his hand, and, after already missing three days of school, he was sure his parents back at home would've been bending their backs over to bring him back to the house. They just couldn't _risk_ others knowing one of their kids skipped school because they'd kicked them out of the house with nothing but a few clothes in hand.

So when he read the new text messages that popped up on his phone, he cracked a dry smile.

**\- sibling**   
_i'm picking you up at four am tomorrow_   
_stay inside wonderland cafe_   
_they're always open_

**\- sibling**   
_mom and dad hope you've reflected over all your sins_ _by now_

_Sins?_ Wooyoung just rolled his eyes. He didn't bother answering his sister, she already knew she got the message across anyway.

Wooyoung was about to switch off his phone and admire the darkening sky once more when a new text showed up on his phone. He groaned, placing the lit cigarette in his hand beside him. He really hoped it wasn't Yebin again.

**\- yunho**   
_hey, wooyoung_   
_are you there_

**\- wooyoung**   
_mhm_   
_what is it?_

**\- wooyoung**   
_we usually talk at school_

And he was telling the truth there. Yes, Yunho spoke to him outside the school sometimes, but their conversations usually stayed within the school premises, and around daytime as well. So all this was baffling to him.

**\- yunho**   
_yeah, but i want us to talk_   
_can you meet me at that restaurant we always used to go to last year?_

**\- yunho**   
_i'll pay_

**\- wooyoung**   
_what's up_

**\- yunho**   
_i'll tell you over there_

**\- wooyoung**   
_you're so fucking secretive_

**\- yunho**   
_just be there in no more than like, fifteen minutes_   
_please_

Wooyoung's curiosity was so freaking piqued. He leapt off the porch and threw his cigarette away.

**\- wooyoung**   
_sure_

And soon enough, he entered the bustling restaurant. Everything had been tinted in this reddish glow that gave the entire area an eerie feel. But then again, that was its charm.

Families were here, couples were here, and there were some students as well. Of course they would be, since this particular restaurant served great food.

Wooyoung found Yunho by himself, since the latter looked too distracted by something to notice him entering.

"I'm hereeee," he sang, and lightly patted the taller's arm while taking the seat across from him.

"Hey, Woo." Yunho greeted, but it lacked all the zest it usually had. He had on a sky blue cap that looked too cute for the rest of his dark clothing, and Wooyoung had to smile. That was Jung Yunho for you: intimidating, but actually kinda soft.

"Are you okay?" Wooyoung asked, noticing the way Yunho kept clicking his fingers on the table like he was nervous. The habit reminded him of San, and subconsciously, he cracked a small smile.

"Let's order something first," Yunho tried to steer the topic of conversation, which Wooyoung noticed immediately. "Chicken?"

Wooyoung crossed his arms, getting himself comfortable. "...Sure, I guess. But _you're_ telling me what's up with you."

Yunho just nodded, looking all _lost and absentminded_ again. "Okay..."

And then, after the basket full of fried chicken was served, Wooyoung took a bite out of one of them, his tastebuds literally singing as he chewed on it. God, he'd nearly forgotten how good this place's chicken was. He made a mental note to bring San here with him at least once.

He finished a drumstick before noticing that Yunho hadn't even attempted eating any at all. The taller was just sipping his soda through a straw the whole time, his big eyes looking they were in another world altogether.

Wooyoung started getting worried. "Hey," he kicked the taller's leg under the table. "At least eat something."

Yunho just shook his head. "I... I can't."

"Why?"

"I feel sick to my stomach, and it's not because I ate something bad. I just..." Yunho rubbed his neck with both hands, "I feel really, really _scared_ right now."

Wooyoung was now extremely worried. It wasn't often that Yunho would admit out loud that he was scared of something, and what even was he so _scared of_?

"Yunho," he began, forgetting all about the chicken on the table, "what's going on? You're starting to legit frighten me."

"Nothing."

"Don't ' _nothing_ ' me. I know you called me here to talk." A sense of deja vu washed over Wooyoung as he said this. Right. He and San had been in a situation similar to this before.

"What if I don't wanna talk anymore?" Yunho was uncharacteristically quiet, unable to meet Wooyoung's eyes. And he kept tapping his fingers on the table. Even his legs couldn't stay still.

"The hell is up with you, Yun?" Wooyoung wondered. "Did something bad happen?"

At this, Yunho finally looked up. His eyes looked particularly watery. "...I can trust you, right?"

Wooyoung shortened the distance between them. "I mean, yeah. You can trust me."

"Then..." Yunho chewed on his lip, inhaling a huge breath. "...I'm gay."

" _What_?" Wooyoung asked, and almost immediately, Yunho deflated.

"I'm... gay," the taller mumbled again, this time looking less content with himself. He drummed his fingers on the table, his entire demeanor anxious as hell. "Do you...hate that? Is that why you're so surprised?"

He looked like he was ready for Wooyoung to recoil in disgust, to instantly hate him and everything that he stood for.

Wooyoung shook his head, nudging his taller friend in the rib. "I'm not surprised because you're _gay_ , dammit. I'm surprised you chose to tell me here, of all places. And while we're eating chicken too."

Yunho exhaled, looking relieved. But, his eyes still held an unmistakable sorrow in them. "You...aren't surprised?" His voice was mellow.

"I mean, I don't give a crap about who you like, who _anyone_ likes, really," Wooyoung explained. "It just seems so dumb for someone to get hated on because of who they think looks good. Everyone deserves to like whoever they want."

Yunho pulled his cap further down to hide more of his face, but Wooyoung could still spot the splotchy pink on his cheeks.

"Yun," he started. The taller wiped something off his face. "Are you... _crying_?"

Yunho pulled his cap even lower. " _Nah_."

"Why are you crying for?" Wooyoung kicked the taller's knee. "Why would you have to cry for that?"

Yunho's form was hunched on the table. "My mom."

"What does your mom have to do with this?" Wooyoung asked, but as soon as he was done, he had a feeling he knew what Yunho was going to reply with.

"Mom tolerates gay people outside the house, but she would _not_ be okay with her son being one of them," Yunho muttered with a sigh. "She already made that clear a few times already."

Wooyoung's jaw clenched. He was suddenly reminded of his own parents, of their ways of wanting to control him and whatever he found interest in. "Who cares what _she_ thinks? It's _your_ life, you aren't gonna stay with her forever."

"I know." Yunho gulped. "But she's my _mother_. I don't wanna disappoint her, even with the fact that she's almost never home due to work, and even when she has never been there for me lately." He inhaled another shaky breath. "I just... I fucking hate that she has this _hold_ over me, because even when she's been nothing but absent over the years... I want her to still _love me_ and consider me as _her_ son."

"If she doesn't accept you for who you are, then she doesn't deserve to be called your mother," Wooyoung replied. His friend's words were eating away at him, and it angered him to no end. Because no matter how fucked up his parents were, there would always be this small, hidden part of him that wished to please them, that wished that they would actually love _him_.

"I know," Yunho whispered. "I just...wish she'd change her views. Because, aren't I her son? I'm _her son_ , so don't I deserve to be _accepted_ , at least?"

Wooyoung flinched as he retained the many times his dad hit him in his childhood for misbehaving, and the many times his mother shouted on him because according to her, he couldn't do _anything_ right.

_Don't I deserve to be accepted, at least?_

"Dad kicked me out of the house since Saturday," Wooyoung admitted, rubbing his hands together. He could feel Yunho's eyes on him. "My sister's picking me up tomorrow morning though, so _that's_ great, I guess."

"They fucking did that _again_?" Yunho questioned. His nose was still pink, his eyes still watery, but he looked a lot more pissed now.

"Yeah. Yebin found a cigarette in my room, so dad got mad and pushed me out." Wooyoung ran a hand through his dark hair. "Been staying at Nina's since her parents are out of the country for a while. But it's been nice, though. I even introduced San to them on Monday."

Yunho scowl softened. "...San?"

"Yeah." Wooyoung looked up, seeing the dark look in his friend's eyes. "What, jealous?"

"I don't like him."

"You don't like _anyone_ who I show a bit of interest in."

"This is serious. I swear," Yunho leaned in. "I swear he has _something_ going on with him. I _know_ I know him from somewhere, but I can't remember where from."

Wooyoung just patted Yunho's shoulder. "San is nice. As I said before, you're just fucking jealous."

Yunho frowned. _Not anymore_. "I'm not."

"Sureee. But anyways," Wooyoung sipped from his coke, "are you into any guy right now? Maybe at school?"

He hoped his subject change would distract Yunho from talking about San even more. He'd come to realize that he really, _really_ hated it when others spoke badly of him.

"The guys at school are gross."

" _Okaaaay_."

" _Shut up_ ," Yunho shoved his shoulder, smiling to himself. "...But... there's this guy."

" _This guy_?" Wooyoung mirrored.

"He's tall, likes to smile a lot, really smart. I'm too shy to talk to him," Yunho said. He looked eager -- _back to normal_ , and Wooyoung was happy to see it, even if it turned out to be temporary. What mattered was that he was happy _now_.

"Yunho, the most feared guy in our shitty school, is too _shy_ to talk to a boy?" Wooyoung uttered. "What dimension am I in right now?"

Yunho laughed, but he looked slightly embarrassed. "Shut _up_."

The shorter boy just grinned. "Mingi."

Yunho's eyes widened. "What?"

Wooyoung just crossed his arms, a smug look overtaking his face. "It's Mingi, _isn't it_?"

Yunho's whole neck was pink. "How'd you know?"

"You _always_ talked about how nice he dressed last year, even when we only ever wear our school uniforms." Wooyoung took another sip of his drink. "Suspected something was up from that moment onward."

"Fuck," Yunho rubbed his neck. "You got me."

"Is he back at school or something?" Wooyoung asked. He knew Mingi had skipped school the majority of last year due to some undisclosed health issue.

"Yeah..."

"Then go _talk_ to him, idiot. How long are you gonna wait?"

"It's just..."

"Just _what_?"

"I think he hates me now." Yunho looked at Wooyoung, seeming unhappy about what he was going to say next. "He caught me fucking with San, and got angry."

"You fucked with San?!" Wooyoung exclaimed a little too loudly. He slightly bowed in apology to the few eyes that glanced at him. Then he punched his friend rather hard. "You messed with San...?"

Yunho huffed. "What about it? Why do you like him so much any way?"

"You dumbass. I like him because he's nice," Wooyoung answered. "Don't touch him again, you hear me?"

Yunho sighed. "Fine. Whatever." He narrowed his eyes. "But are you...into him?"

Wooyoung rolled his eyes, but his hands shook a little. He hid them under the table. "No, but he's my friend. And I don't want you bothering him again, got that?"

With how tense Yunho looked, it was obvious he had a hard time taking orders from others. But, Wooyoung knew they were close enough for Yunho to listen to him.


	15. living to exist

Wooyoung had skipped school for two days, and when San asked him why he'd been absent through texts, the other boy just replied with ' _problem with the_ _'rents_ '. And despite how nosy, loud, and infuriatingly curious Wooyoung could get, San had still craved for his company. Because sometimes, Wooyoung could get pretty... soft _and_ considerate with him, and San had always found himself looking forward to those moments. They were his favourite.

School was quiet and kind of draining without Wooyoung making him laugh, flustering him and sneaking him snacks whenever the teachers weren't looking, but San wasn't _lonely_. Mostly because of a certain redhaired male that'd saved him from Yunho and his irritating friends that Monday morning.

Mingi had met him by the school garden at lunch on Tuesday, and even when San acted like his stupid awkward self a majority of the time, the taller boy didn't seem to mind that. He'd even shared his sandwich with San, briefly commenting on how skinny he looked. But it hadn't been said in spite, so San wasn't uncomfortable.

"You know," Mingi begun during the second half at lunch, "I'd always wanted to talk to you ever since last year. But you seemed reserved, and I didn't wanna make you uncomfortable, since we weren't friends."

He'd then commented on how he stopped attending school a few months in because he had to take care of some health problem he had.

At that point in time, San had gotten so curious about it that he couldn't help but blurt out: "What kind of health problem? I mean -- that is if you wanna tell me. I'm sorry if I came off as rude."

Mingi's smile didn't falter as he replied San. "Bone cancer." He softly nudged San's side, chuckling at the flabbergasted look on the shorter's face. "Don't tell anyone, though."

San had just shakily nodded, his throat feeling way too dry to speak. His fingers curled themselves over his slacks. "I-I won't. I'm sorry..."

"It's fine, don't worry." Mingi grinned, and quickly changed the subject. But all San could think about was if he was doing the right thing by accepting Mingi's offer for friendship.

That Tuesday night, his nose bled while he slept.

Wednesday was the same; Mingi hung out with him at lunch and during study hall as well. He'd managed to distract San from all the stares he'd gotten from Yunho in study hall, but he'd came to soon realize that Yunho wasn't staring at _him_ specifically. No, he'd been staring at _Mingi_ the whole time. But Mingi never paid him any attention, too concentrated on reading through his notes and talking to San.

"He isn't bothering you, right?" Mingi'd asked him a few minutes before the bell rang for the next class.

"Who?" San asked, even when he knew who Mingi was talking about.

"Yunho," Mingi replied. "He still bullies people, but I don't want you to be one of them."

San then snuck a glance at Yunho's form that sat some seats away from them. His face was in some book, but he wasn't even reading it. His eyes still drifted to Mingi time and time again.

San looked away. _Did Mingi really not notice Yunho's stares?_

"He's not," San answered truthfully. He still felt wary of the guy though.

Mingi smiled, packing up his stuff. "Good."

_* * *_

  
Wooyoung was back at school on Thursday morning. San spotted him by the school gates, roughhousing with a few of his friends and Yunho as well. Their voices were loud, asking about Wooyoung's previous whereabouts and why he didn't text them all that much. Wooyoung just gave them all vague answers.

When Wooyoung's eyes met San's, he just winked, which sent San's heartbeat rising through the roof.

San then hurried past the gates, not wanting the other guys around the area to see the blush on his face.

During math class, Wooyoung took the seat next to San, kicking at his leg to alert his attention.

"Hey, Choi," Wooyoung spoke, that familiar and _highly_ attractive smirk gracing his lips. "I went back to my parents earlier this morning. Did you miss me?"

San's fingers played with the buttons of his school shirt. "We...we texted a lot, so... not really."

Wooyoung laughed. "Yeah. But, did you miss my _face_ , prettyboy?"

San couldn't think of a reply, his pulse elevating. Luckily, the teacher entered the class at that moment, rendering the entire class silent. San heaved a relieved sigh, but his mind was still replaying that _prettyboy_ over and over again.

As soon as lunch came around, San made his way towards the back of the school to meet with Mingi by the gardens. He convinced himself that the taller boy was fine now (after all, Mingi said so himself), and that nothing would happen to him. San was tired of pushing others away, and for once, he wanted to befriend someone without his problem complicating everything. And plus, it wasn't like he spent every single second with Mingi.

"Choi, where are you heading to?" Wooyoung's voice cut into San's thoughts, and San was grateful for the distraction. He didn't want to feel guilt for something he unfortunately had no control over.

"The gardens?" The dark haired boy continued. "Didn't know you liked going there now."

San noticed Mingi sitting at their usual bench, the taller's fiery locks falling into his eyes. "...I eat here with Mingi now for lunch."

Wooyoung had seen Mingi too, but his expression betrayed nothing. "Cool."

Once they got to where Mingi was, San rubbed his arm, suddenly feeling anxious for no reason at all. "Uh, this is Wooyoung. Wooyoung, this is Mingi."

Wooyoung sat next to Mingi, running his hand down his hair. "I already knew you since last year."

Mingi watched him with a smile, but it didn't really reach his eyes. San busied himself with sitting down on the other end since the bench fitted all three of them.

"Right. You're Yunho's friend, right?" Mingi answered.

Wooyoung nodded. "Yeah."

"I thought so, since I always see you around him," Mingi said, his tone bordering on stern. "And I'm sure you've seen the many times he bothered other students, correct?"

The air around them turned more rigid, and San wanted to say something before things escalated and got worse.

Wooyoung's face still remained blank, though. "I can't really control what Yunho does, since he doesn't take orders well, but I swear he's a nice person. I already told him to leave San alone since we're friends, and he'd agreed."

San looked up then, and caught Wooyoung staring at him. At this, the dark haired boy simply smiled, causing San to look away since he didn't know what else to do.

Mingi noticed the stares they'd exchanged, but he fortunately didn't mention anything about it. He took a sip of his drink. "That's good, I guess."

"But, really," Wooyoung said, glancing at Mingi. "Yunho may not seem like it, but he's a nice enough guy. He even sleeps with a teddy bear, and one time he even cried while we were watching a romcom at his house."

Mingi raised an eyebrow. "Why are you telling me this?"

San couldn't help but wonder that too.

Wooyoung just shrugged. "No reason. I just don't want you to think of him as a bad person."

"Really? Is that it?" Mingi questioned.

"Yeah," Wooyoung nodded.

Mingi sighed and crossed his arms over his chest, looking like he was contemplating over something. "...I already know that Yunho likes me."

If San had been drinking something, he _definitely_ would've spit it out after hearing Mingi's statement.

"Wait, really?" Wooyoung looked surprised.

"Yes. But there's no point," Mingi continued. His eyes seemed far off, at someplace else entirely, and San had a feeling he wasn't only talking about Yunho's possible crush on him.

"Why?" Wooyoung was asking. "Are you like, homophobic or something?"

Mingi shook his head. "No."

"But you're straight, right? Is that why you're not interested?" Wooyoung pressed, and San glared at him.

" _Wooyoung_ , don't be rude," he warned. Mingi, however, just looked humoured by the whole situation.

"I'm not straight, but I'm not gay either. I like whoever I happen to like," Mingi explained. "I'm also good at sensing who likes who. That's why I quickly noticed the many, _many_ times Yunho has stared at me."

At this, San picked his nails, his movements rougher than usual. He sincerely hoped that Mingi hadn't noticed how quickly his face burned whenever Wooyoung grinned or smiled at him.

"Then you guys should hang out. Maybe you'll find that you like him more than you'd expected?" Wooyoung tried again.

Mingi raked his fingers through his red hair. His smile looked close to disappearing completely off his face. "It's no use. Why like, or fall in love with someone that you will eventually lose? That would just hurt you both in the end."

San gulped, as he'd never anticipated hearing those kind of words coming from Mingi's lips. Mingi, who he'd seen as friendly, calm, and smiley, had just uttered sentences that didn't fail to verbally stab him in the gut because of how scarily relatable they were. They hit far _too close_ to home, and San had to wonder: Were these the thoughts that Mingi frequently had?

"Shit, you're insanely pessimistic," Wooyoung replied after a couple seconds of tense silence.

"Just being realistic," Mingi countered. He'd gone back to smiling, but his brown eyes looked hollow. There was nothing in them anymore.

"But... that doesn't mean you can't try." San shocked himself by speaking out loud. Mingi's words kept echoing inside his head, and it made this sense of dread envelope him. It made him feel insecure and... _hopeless_.

Mingi and Wooyoung both looked at him, and he cleared his throat.

"I mean -- everyone will die one day, right?" San stuttered, inhaling a sharp breath. "But, that doesn't stop most people from going after what they want, even when they know they'll die someday..."

Wooyoung blinked, before nodding fervently. "Yes -- San's right. We all know death's a bitch and it'll come for us one day, right? But we still continue living, because that's what humans fucking do. They _live_."

Mingi took a bite out of his sandwich. "Just simply existing sounds easier. It makes everything less stressful in the end."

"Aish," Wooyoung groaned. "You're making everything so depressing. Hey -- don't laugh." He pointed at a chuckling Mingi. "This is serious. I have an idea. We should go get some ice cream later so you'd stop making _me_ feel so horrible."

"I'm sorry," Mingi apologized. "I just -- I felt like ranting for a bit. But, ice cream _does_ sound good."

Wooyoung grinned. "Favourite flavour?"

"Cookies and cream."

"Ehhhh."

As Wooyoung and Mingi launched into an argument about which ice cream flavour was the best, San thought over Mingi's words from earlier.

_Why like, or fall in love with someone that you will eventually lose? That would just hurt you both in the end._

_Just simply existing sounds easier. It makes everything less stressful in the end_.

San watched Wooyoung, observing the latter's delicate features, his bright smile and his twinkling eyes. He was so _beautiful_ , it made San so unsure of himself at times. Because what did someone like him, ever find in someone like San?

Wooyoung's eyes locked with his, and he cracked a smile that was meant solely for _him_. Instantly, San's ears darkened in colour.

... _And why did San have to like him?_


	16. korean santa

True to his words, Wooyoung took Mingi to that ice cream shop that he and San had previously gone to, and San watched as the taller boy looked around the area, a soft, sentimental smile sprouting on his face.

"Guys, I've _been_ here before," Mingi told them. "Place serves great ice cream."

  
" _I know right_ ," Wooyoung replied without missing a beat. He sat the closest to San at their table, and the latter nearly jumped when he suddenly patted his back, before leaning closer to Mingi as if he was about to share a huge secret. "But do you know that San here doesn't even _like_ ice cream?"

Mingi's pouty lips parted a little. "Wait, really?"

San rose a hand, trying to defend himself. "I never said I hated ice cream -- "

"Oh, but you _did_." Wooyoung's hand still lingered on his back, making San's heart squeeze.

"I said I didn't like ice cream _that_ much," San mumbled. "It's okay, but I prefer other things, like a smoothie, or something."

Mingi crossed his arms, flashing San a gentle smile. "Understandable. Not everyone can like something."

"But this is fucking ice cream we're talking about," Wooyoung answered. "I swear, if I could eat one thing for the rest of my life, it'd be _ice cream_."

Mingi laughed at this, while San's lips lifted a little. He couldn't help it though, especially when Wooyoung's eyes shone like an excited child's when he spoke about ice cream.

"You're lucky you aren't lactose intolerant," Mingi said, looking through the ice cream flavours that he could get.

"I swear, even if I was, I'd still eat ice cream." Wooyoung then perked up, sitting straighter in his seat. He looked at both San and Mingi, a smile nothing less than mischievous coating his features. "Hey, we should totally make a competition out of it."

"Wait," San began, but Mingi spoke up.

"Like, who finishes the fastest?"

Wooyoung smirked, a dimple appearing. "Yep."

Mingi grinned. "Hell yeah."

San bit his lip. He didn't like ice cream so much that he'd want to compete in it, so as a result he calmly rose his hand to speak, and the two boys next to him turned to watch him.

"Uh," San dropped his hand. "I'll be the judge...?"

Luckily, Mingi beamed at his suggestion. "Yes! You can do that. And also record us too, so we can like, store it for memory's sake or something."

Wooyoung nodded. "I'll post it on Instagram."

At this, Mingi quickly shook his head. " _Hell no._ "

"Why?"

"Just _no_."

"Fine," Wooyoung pouted, and San couldn't help it, he just had to laugh.

" _Hey_ , what are you laughing at, asshole?" Wooyoung frowned, but he didn't look annoyed. "Want me to tickle your guts out again, Choi?"

San made a motion of zipping his lips. " _Nah, I'm good_."

As this was going on, Mingi was staring at the two of them with this knowing look on his face that they both missed.

Wooyoung soon passed San his phone, who then proceeded to record several videos of Mingi and Wooyoung both competitively trying to finish their ice cream orders as quickly as they possibly could. It was funny, and it was _loud_. Many times, San had to tell them to _quiet the fuck down before the shop owners kicked them out,_ but overall, San had to admit that he was glad they'd went along with Wooyoung's idea.

"San, quick -- get this record-breaking shot," Mingi told San a few seconds after he'd finished his ice cream. "It's fuckin' _hilarious_."

San obeyed, diverting the camera over to Wooyoung, who looked like he had a white mustache due to the ice cream he'd just consumed.

"Turn it _off_ ," Wooyoung groaned, looking like an irritated Santa on a sugar high. He started to wipe off the lingering ice cream lining his upper lip.

"San's already got it, though," Mingi replied with a cackle. "Oh god, you looked _wack_ as hell."

San couldn't stop himself from giggling as well. "I -- I thought you were Santa for a sec."

"Since when is Santa Korean?" Mingi joked.

Wooyoung pouted, before grabbing the bottle of whipped cream on the table and spraying it over San's entire mouth. 

Mingi's laugh _boomed_ throughout the store, while San tried to cover his face as Wooyoung began to record him.

"Give me one of those pretty smiles of yours, Choi San," he laughed, while Mingi looked like he was seconds away from falling out of his seat. "Come on, don't be shy."

"Put some more." Mingi wheezed, grabbing his sides as he continued to laugh.

San, totally, and utterly embarrassed, grabbed the whipped cream bottle and sprayed some along Wooyoung's exposed eyebrows. He smirked as soon as Wooyoung gasped.

"Fuck," he cursed. "My beautiful eyebrows!"

Mingi _actually_ fell of his seat this time.

Wooyoung grabbed the bottle of whipped cream, but San held on to it as well, for once not minding the stares they were all getting.

San finally yanked off the whipped cream, and then proceeded to spray some more across Wooyoung's cheek.

"You fucking asshole," Wooyoung started with a huge smile. It didn't take long for his hands to land on San's ribs, tickling the hell out of him. Instantly, San dropped the whipped cream and landed on the floor, his vision filled with nothing but Wooyoung's terrifying transformation and manic laughter. And god, it was a _sight_.

They all ended up getting kicked out of the shop.

"I managed to get most of it on your phone's camera," Mingi said, looking the most unscathed out of the three of them. Wooyoung was busy tousling his damp locks, having already washed his face in the shop's bathroom, and San was unbuttoning his school shirt which had a couple stains on it. He hoped Seonghwa wouldn't get too mad at it.

"Which one?" Wooyoung asked, his hair falling in messy waves all over his head. San found his eyes drifting to him for what seemed like the nth time that day alone.

"The one where you looked like a freakin' psycho?" Mingi answered with a laugh, and Wooyoung looked highly unimpressed.

"Bitch," Wooyoung muttered, licking his lips. He hummed in satisfaction. "I can like, still taste the whipped cream, so I don't regret getting kicked out."

Since Mingi was still looking at the videos saved on the shorter boy's phone, San braved yet another look at Wooyoung.

 _Give me one of those pretty smiles of yours, Choi San_. San felt his neck burn. Wooyoung thought his smile looked _pretty_.

"Hey, Choi," Wooyoung said, stepping closer to him. He poked his arm. "Thinking of me?"

"U-Uh," San stuttered, but before he could conjure up a reply, obnoxious rapping was heard from Wooyoung's phone.

"Your mom's calling." Mingi uttered.

Wooyoung snatched the phone from Mingi's grip, but his face remained stoic. Then, he went off somewhere, his phone pressed to his ear.

"I don't think he likes his Mom that much," Mingi spoke next to San. "He isn't smiling anymore."

And he was right. San could see how Wooyoung's frown gradually deepened as he continued to converse with his mother in the distance. His fists clenched when he recollected the marks he'd seen on Wooyoung's face that one Saturday night.

"We can't all have great parents," San whispered. Mingi rose an eyebrow in questioning, but he didn't get the chance to ask him what exactly he'd meant by that because Wooyoung showed up not too long after.

He flung his arms over their shoulders. "Boys, I'm afraid I must leave now. Mother wants me to be home before 6 pm." He sighed. "Don't miss me too much."

Mingi coughed, and then rolled his eyes. "Wasn't planning on it."

Wooyoung just grinned, before facing San. "What about you? Will you miss me?"

Mingi mouthed a ' _say_ _no_ ', but nearly choked when Wooyoung smacked his chest.

"Well...sometimes you talk too much, so I won't really miss that," San admitted. He wasn't really telling the truth there, he just wanted to tease the dark haired boy a bit.

Mingi's laughter sent San laughing as well. "Ooh, _burn_."

Wooyoung just nodded, his smile sour. "I see."

San bit his lip. "I didn't really mean it."

"Whatever." But Wooyoung was smiling again, indicating that he wasn't offended.

San exhaled a sigh of relief. The thought of Wooyoung getting pissed because of him didn't sit well with San at all.

Later that night, San got a new message from Wooyoung on his phone. It was a few of the videos he'd taken earlier at the ice cream place. And as he played them all, he grinned so wide that his cheeks hurt.

Something then dripped onto his open palm, and San's grin disappeared.

His nose was bleeding again.

_* * *_

Yunho found himself waking in the middle of the night when a new text message appeared on his phone.

  
**\- unknown number**   
_hello_

**\- unknown number**   
_is this yunho?_

**\- yunho**   
_uh, yes?_

**\- yunho**   
_who is this???_

**\- unknown number**   
_it's mingi :]_

**\- mingi** **🌹**   
_sorry i texted u in_   
_the middle of the night_ _._   
_just wanted to confirm_   
_that it was u_

**\- yunho**   
_uhm, yes_   
_it is me_

**\- yunho**   
_yunho_   
_jung yunho_

**\- yunho**   
_how did you get_   
_my number?_

**\- mingi 🌹**   
_wooyoung ;)_

**\- yunho**   
_oh_   
_thats great_

**\- yunho**   
_are u alright?_

**\- mingi 🌹**   
_why are you asking lol_

**\- yunho**   
_i just wanted to know_   
_if you're fine_

**\- mingi 🌹**   
_didn't know you were idk_ _,_   
_capable of asking that_

**\- yunho**   
_what do u mean??_

**\- mingi 🌹**   
_i see what you do at school_   
_and what you did to san_

**\- yunho**   
_i'm sorry_

**\- mingi 🌹**   
_its not me you should_   
_be apologizing to_

**\- yunho**   
_fine. i'll_ _apologize to san._   
_will that be ok?_

**\- mingi 🌹**   
_sure_

**\- yunho**   
_als_ _o,,_   
_we should hang_ _out_ _sometime_   
_you seem like a guy i'd like to befriend._

**\- mingi 🌹**   
_no_

**\- yunho**   
_sorry?_

**\- mingi 🌹**   
_you should get me something you'd think i like_   
_and then maybe i'll consider hanging out with you_

**\- yunho**   
_oh_

**\- mingi 🌹**   
_are u mad?_

**\- yunho**   
_no, i'm not_   
_and its alright_   
_i mean, its fine that u_   
_want me to get u something_   
_so we can hang out_

**\- mingi 🌹**  
 _thanks_ _for understanding_

**\- yunho**   
_it's perfectly fine_ _:)_

Yunho flung himself on his bed and touched his cheeks. They felt hot, and he guessed that he was probably a blushing mess right now.

 _You rule over the guys in your school_ , Yunho thought, _so why are you getting so flustered over one guy?_


	17. saturday night clash

The Jung household wasn't so quiet and so mind-numbingly _boring_ at dinner tonight, and that was due to the guy Yebin had brought with her half an hour ago.

The guy was like Wooyoung's older sister in another body: uptight, proud and irritatingly intrusive with his questions. As he sat there on the table in his expensive, form-fitting suit, Wooyoung could already feel his dislike for the other male grow more and more, even when he'd just met the guy today.

It was Saturday night, and usually, Wooyoung would be out with friends at this hour or in his room, shutting himself off from the rest of his family, but now that Yebin's boy 'friend' was here, his parents had made it absolutely _obligatory_ to be present. Wooyoung didn't even know why they were trying so hard to appear as a normal family; it was obvious no one seated at the dinner table liked him anyways.

"So," Yebin's friend, _Mark_ , glanced at Wooyoung, taking a composed sip out of his red wine. Since Wooyoung was the only minor there, he'd only been allowed water. "You're Yebin's brother, right?"

 _Duh_. Wooyoung shrugged, feeling the hard stares of his parents digging into the aquamarine dress shirt he wore. "...Yes."

"Oh, I thought you looked familiar. I've seen you a few times in the city with some of your friends," Mark continued, his low words grating themselves into Wooyoung's eardrums. "You seem rather, _sociable_ indeed."

And _of course_ , his parents wouldn't want to miss an opportunity to degrade their son in front of others.

"Actually, his friends are no good," Mr Jung added. "Don't know why he's always out and about with them when he should be in the house, facing his studies and acting like a responsible young man for once."

Wooyoung's fingernails lightly scratched over the surface of his glass cup. _That's because they're actually fucking bearable to be around, unlike you monsters_.

"He's almost never home on the weekends as well, too busy parading the city and partaking in these _horrendous_ acts," Mrs Jung continued as she cut a piece of steak for herself. Like always, she supported her husband.

 _Whenever I feel sad, I always try to think of nice things_. San's words when they'd sat together at that art room repeated itself inside Wooyoung's mind. He shut his eyes and let out a quiet exhale, telling himself to calm down.

 _Just t_ _hink of San_. The other boy's charming dimpled smile flashed behind his eyelids, and when he opened his eyes once more, Mark had already started to talk again.

"But, that's not such a bad thing, now is it?" He was saying. "This means he probably already has a girlfriend by now."

 _I'm right here_ , Wooyoung thought. He imagined screaming those words out and wrecking the entire place. He imagined stapling everyone's mouths shut and rolling them down a fucking cliff and into the sea, their mangled bodies getting eaten by some shark in the process. _Stop talking about me like I'm some fucking experiment_!

Yebin leaned into Mark and glanced at Wooyoung, her wide smile noticeably forced. Her dark eyes looked particularly menacing under the sparkling chandelier above them.

San's eyes were usually dark too, but unlike Yebin's, they were soft, _innocent_.

"Oh," Yebin said with a small chuckle. "Our Wooyoung isn't into girls."

Wooyoung's nails had now formed an indent on his cup.

"What do you mean?" Mark asked, while Mr and Mrs Jung looked visibly displeased.

"He's almost always with guys," Yebin explained. She stared at her brother like he was some stain on her ruby red stilettos that she wanted nothing more than to get rid of.

" _Yebin_ ," Wooyoung's father cut in with a warning tone. "Stop assuming things that are not true about your brother. Stop it this instant."

Mrs Jung quickly added to what he said, her painted lips downturned with contained anger. "My son is _not gay_."

Wooyoung's glass broke, startling the others at the table. Immediately, he pushed his chair back. The rough sound it made echoed eerily within the confines of the dining room.

"I will be in my room," Wooyoung muttered, his soft voice clashing with the storm of thoughts raging about in his head.

His father gritted his teeth, his bushy brows furrowing. "You aren't going _anywhere_. You will remain here for the rest of dinner."

Wooyoung glared at him, his heart thrashing wildly in his chest. His fingers were slightly bleeding, yet not one of them even thought about commenting on it. "No."

"Take one step out of this room, and you'll regret it," Mr Jung threatened.

"What are you going to do?" Wooyoung's voice remained steady, but his hands shook. " _Hit me_ again?"

"Wooyoung!" His mother exclaimed. Yebin just looked utterly smug from where she sat.

Wooyoung ignored them all though and raced out of the room and into the halls so quickly that his knees ached.

He pushed through the doors to his room and marched towards his wardrobe, yanking its doors open. He pulled on some fleece sweater that looked out of place with his formal clothing and grabbed his phone. While all this was happening, the voices down the hall were getting louder and louder by the second.

Wooyoung knew that if his parents got to him, he'd be really fucked, so he pushed open one of the windows to his room and jumped out of it. His shoes dug into the flowerbed surrounding the back of the large house, and he thanked whatever god was out there that his bedroom was located closer to the ground.

He didn't cease his steps until he got out of the area altogether. He ran and ran until he couldn't anymore, his breaths coming out in uneven pants.

Knowing that his voice would betray his distress, Wooyoung opted for texting the one person he felt could lessen his growing pile of worries.

**\- wooyoung**   
_san, are you up??_

Luckily, San didn't take long to reply.

**\- san**   
_yeah_   
_uhm, are you okay?_

Wooyoung had to laugh. He was far from ' _okay_ '.

**\- wooyoung**   
_nah, not really_

**\- san**   
_what happened? :(_

Wooyoung's eyes stung with unshed tears, but he rapidly blinked them away.

**\- wooyoung**   
_got into trouble with my parents_

**\- wooyoung**   
_i know its late but, can u_   
_meet me in front of horizon diner?_

**\- san**   
_uh, my cousin_ _seonghwa's_ _up rn_   
_but, i'll convince him to let me leave_

**\- san**   
_are you hurt?_

Physically, Wooyoung was fine. However, his pride was hurt, and his self-confidence had plummeted deep into the ground.

**\- wooyoung**   
_nah_   
_i just,_   
_wanna see you_   
_please_

**\- san**   
_okay_   
_i'll be there soon_

Wooyoung shoved his phone into his trouser pockets and continued on his way, totally ignoring the few calls he'd gotten from his parents.

_* * *_

  
San was already in front of the diner by the time Wooyoung showed up. He had on this forest green stripped sweater that looked really cute on him, and his dark hair was sort of wavy, the colour bringing out the red on his pouty lips.

He looked nervous, and kind of sleep deprived, and Wooyoung immediately felt guilty.

"W-Wooyoung..." San whispered, a bit of a stutter in his voice. Wooyoung noticed the way his eyes trailed all over his body -- like he was this piece of art that needed to be admired -- but he pretended that he hadn't seen anything.

Both teens walked up to one another, and Wooyoung surprised the other by wrapping his arms around his waist to hug him.

"W-Woo..."

"God, I'm sorry for touching you without permission, but I just...really need to be held right now." Wooyoung rambled into the smooth dip of San's shoulder. The latter's neck was littered in sparse freckles that Wooyoung felt the urge to trace his fingers over. There weren't much people around either, so Wooyoung felt a lot more... _safe_.

San froze, and Wooyoung could feel the rapid thumping of his heartbeat. "It's -- it's okay," he answered, his own arms finding their way around him. "Did your parents...hurt you?"

Wooyoung's fists clenched, but the gentle rise and fall of San's chest decreased the never-ending anger he felt towards his family.

"If a guy..." Wooyoung swallowed, "always hangs out with a bunch of guys and little to no girls," he exhaled a harsh breath, "then does that mean he likes dick?"

"Uh -- " San sputtered, and Wooyoung couldn't help it, he had to laugh. He met San's eyes, noting the bright pink dotting the latter's cheeks. "I don't -- I don't think that's always the case."

"Exactly," Wooyoung huffed and stepped away from San. "But my stupid family doesn't understand that. Fuck, I had to have dinner with them tonight because my sister brought her stuck-up date along, and...oh my god, I wanted to just _end_ myself."

"You can't," San replied.

"Can't what?"

San shoved his hands into his pockets, kicking at something on the ground. "You can't end yourself. Because... It'll make me sad."

Wooyoung felt like booping his nose. He didn't think that San even realized how _adorkably_ _cute_ he acted a lot of the time.

"Aww, it'll make you sad?" Wooyoung chuckled, and San nodded, still avoiding his eyes. Wooyoung proceeded to affectionately tousle the back of the boy's hair. "You're too cute."

San's cheeks turned darker, and Wooyoung (once again), noticed his eyes observing his face and body.

And although Wooyoung wasn't one to get flustered or intimidated easily, at that moment, he felt his heart squeeze.

"You keep looking at me. I must look hot, right?" Wooyoung said with a cheeky grin.

"Uhm," San cleared his throat and blinked repeatedly, while Wooyoung just patted his back.

"I wanna ask you for a favour."

San glanced at him, his pink cheeks making him look even prettier than he already was. _Prettyboy_. "What?"

"I wanna sleep over in your house. Will that be possible?"

_* * *_

  
San's house was smaller than his, but Wooyoung had already expected that. The interior was homey and had this warmth to it that his house so desperately lacked.

There was this blond guy working on his laptop at the couch, but he looked up as soon as he and San entered.

"Uh, Seonghwa," San looked extremely awkward. "This is Jung Wooyoung. We're...friends."

At this, Wooyoung ushered a wave. Seonghwa seemed like he was a couple years older than the both of them, but he looked like a nice enough guy for Wooyoung. "Nice to meet you."

San's cousin gave them a smile that brightened his features and stood up to greet them himself.

"Nice to meet you too, Wooyoung." He replied. He looked a bit confused as to what a friend of San's was doing at his house in that hour, but he didn't comment on it, fortunately. "Are you in the same class as San?"

"Mhm," Wooyoung replied. "He looked nice to me, so I wanted to be his friend."

Seonghwa grinned, adjusting the thinly framed glasses on his face. "I bet he was shy, right?"

San's eyes widened. " _Hyung_!"

Wooyoung laughed, patting San's shoulder. He slid his hand down to his lower back and let his touch linger, feeling San shiver underneath his fingertips.

"He really was, though," Wooyoung replied with a smirk.

"I-I think we should go to my room now," San grabbed Wooyoung's hand. "He's going to sleep over, after all."

Seonghwa nodded in understanding. "Ah, okay. Good night."

San didn't wait for Wooyoung to reply, he just dragged the latter upstairs and into his room.

"Why the rush?" Wooyoung asked as San switched on the lights. He looked around, taking the opportunity to observe the inside of San's room. The walls were navy blue, and the ceiling was dark, decorated with these plastic neon stars. And his bed looked comfy, the same colour as the bedroom's walls.

"Cute room," he commented.

San rubbed his arm. "It's boring."

"Nah," Wooyoung argued. "It's cute." He pulled off his sweater, highly aware of the other boy's eyes on him. "I feel like taking a shower. Will that be okay?"

San picked at his nails, looking nervous. "It's okay."

"You have clothes that you can lend me, right?"

"Um, yeah."

"Cool."


	18. bruised minds, tainted hearts

_mentions of physical abuse and attempted suicide._

_* * *_

  
Wooyoung spent some time in the shower, and San could do nothing but sit on his bed like a total idiot the whole time, since his nerves just wouldn't allow him to _relax_.

 _What if Wooyoung hates where I live? What if I fucking bleed and die and he sees it and avoids me forever?_ San bit his thumb nail, highly disliking the way his palms tremored. He probably looked like shit right now, dark eye bags and all. And Wooyoung probably thought so as well.

San laid his head on his pillow to try and get some rest, but then quickly thought against it and stood up, walking in quick paces all over the area. He wanted to be on his feet when Wooyoung came back to his room, it'd be too awkward if he wasn't.

After a minute passed, the doorknob slowly turned. San stopped, his accelerated heartbeat vibrating in his ribcage.

Wooyoung then stepped in, dressed in a baby pink shirt that exposed some of his shoulders, and black shorts. His raven coloured hair was sort of damp, falling in loose curls over his forehead, and his cheeks were splotched with a faint redness in them. He looked like a doll.

"I saw your cousin on my way out of the bathroom, and it was so fucking _awkward_ , and I don't even fucking know why." Well, a doll that cursed like a sailor, but a doll regardless.

"And, pink isn't usually my thing, but I kinda dig this look, not gonna lie," Wooyoung continued, and San had to avert his eyes because he didn't want to get caught staring at him.

"Uh, well, most of my clothes won't fit you that well," San said. "That's why I gave you that shirt."

Wooyoung stepped further inside, his eyes surveying the area. He pointed at the small desk and chair at the far left corner of the room. "What're they used for?"

San chewed his lip. "Homework."

"Homework?" Wooyoung grinned. "Cute."

"You say that all the time."

"What? You don't like it?" Wooyoung shot him a lopsided smile. "Do you prefer prettyboy instead?"

 _That word again_ , San thought. The tip of his ears felt hot. "I don't."

" _Sure_ ," Wooyoung nodded. He went up to the desk and took a forgotten pen on it. "I like your pen."

San was confused, the pen was just a regular pen. "It's just some blue-inked pen."

"But it's yours, right?" Wooyoung placed it back on the table. He looked directly at San, and San felt himself gulp.

He quickly nodded. "Yeah."

"That's why I like it." Wooyoung stepped even _closer_ to him, and San's brain totally freaked out. Why was he so _close_?

But then Wooyoung just stepped past him and plopped his body on San's bed. He ran his fingers over it. "Ooh, your bed feels nice."

San coughed, and rubbed his neck. "I'll sleep on the floor. Seonghwa has some extra blankets and pillows."

At this, Wooyoung suddenly sat up, this uncharacteristic frown settling on his face. "Wait, you're _actually_ gonna sleep on the floor? You must really dislike me then."

San blinked in surprise, and he tried to explain himself. "N-No, it's not like that. I just -- "

"Is it awkward? Do you find it awkward to sleep with another guy on the same bed? Is that it?" Wooyoung's questions rendered San a panicked mess.

"I -- I'm sorry," San eventually found himself apologizing. "I just...I thought you'd find it uncomfortable."

"Nah." Wooyoung patted the bed. "Switch off the lights and come lay with me."

San obeyed, because with Wooyoung, he just couldn't disagree with him for long. Once the lights were off, the stars plastered on the ceiling shone more vibrantly.

San slowly inched his way to his bed, trying to ignore all the stares he'd been recieving from Wooyoung.

As soon as he was rested, Wooyoung chuckled, the low sound sending chills down his back.

"San... You good?"

"Yeah," San whispered. "...Are you good?"

Wooyoung nodded. He smiled, before releasing a sigh. "I'm okay _now_. But earlier tonight, I wasn't in the slightest."

It was dark enough that most of their bodies weren't visible, but San could still see the soft contours of Wooyoung's face.

"I'm sorry your parents are like that."

Wooyoung shifted so he could stare directly at the ceiling. "Hey, it isn't your fault. My parents have always been like that before I even met you." He glanced at San. "Dude, I can't believe I've _never_ asked this before, but, why are you living with your cousin?"

San closed his eyes, the smiling faces of his late parents appearing in his mind. He let out a small sigh.

"My parents died." _And it's because of me._

Wooyoung paused, and didn't say anything for some time. But then, San felt a warm hand lacing with his. "I'm sorry."

San laughed, trying to lighten the atmosphere, but it just came out extremely forced. "It's fine."

"I shouldn't have asked." Wooyoung's hand squeezed his, and warmth flooded his face.

"It's fine." San's voice was rough.

Silence flushed over them, but it wasn't a tense, uncomfortable one. It was calm, rather, and San was glad that the darkness of the room hid the growing blush on his cheeks.

"Hey, you feel like sleeping?" Wooyoung's voice cut into San's thoughts.

"No."

"Me neither." Another pause. "Hey, we should totally do something."

San nodded. "What?"

"Let's call it the ' _Insecurity_ _Feud_ '. _I'll_ say something I hate about myself and _you'll_ say something you hate about yourself, and we'll judge which one is worse." Wooyoung sat up, his back pressed against San's pillow. The pink shirt he wore slid down his right shoulder, exposing more of it, but he didn't seem to notice.

San, however, _did_ , and he had the sudden urge to adjust it, his throat feeling dry. He looked away though, not wanting to appear weird. "...Sounds sadistic."

Wooyoung shrugged, seeming unbothered. "Possibly, but I wanna know more about you."

"I know you just wanna find out more about that bleeding problem I have," San said.

"What can I say?" Wooyoung reached out to tuck a strand of San's locks behind his ear. He chuckled when the latter's breath hitched. "I'm curious... And I know you're curious about me too..."

San's chest felt cold the second Wooyoung retreated his hand, but he cleared his throat to look casual. "Whatever."

"I'll go first," Wooyoung suggested.

"Sure." San's voice betrayed nothing, but the other teen was right, he _was_ curious. Curious about a lot of things regarding the dark haired male, in fact.

"I used to have an older brother, he died a few months after he was born," Wooyoung continued. "I didn't know him since I didn't even exist yet, but my parents must've liked him a lot. Guess that's why they always pressured me to act a certain way."

San's eyes widened. He never expected Wooyoung to say something like that. He watched the other male, but Wooyoung wasn't looking at him anymore. "Woo..." His voice broke. "I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing," Wooyoung replied, his tone bordering on stern. "I'm fine." He rolled to face San. "Now, it's your turn."

"You already know this, but my parents...are dead. They died on my thirteenth birthday." San inhaled a huge breath. "I've never liked my birthday since then."

"That fucking sucks." Wooyoung's thumb ran over the ridge of San's knuckles. "Yours is _way worse_."

San softly chuckled. When he looked up, Wooyoung was smiling as well, his bright eyes staring intently at him.

"We're friends, so you already know that I don't like being ordered around." Wooyoung bit his lower lip, his eyes dimming. "But my parents -- especially my _dad_ \-- didn't like that. He always wanted everyone in the family to listen to him, so we had a few clashes here and there."

San felt Wooyoung's grip on his hand tighten.

"He'd shout at me and hit me whenever I didn't listen to him, and it got so bad in middle school that the teachers noticed the bruises on my body," Wooyoung added. Despite his heavy words, his tone was void of feelings, recalling those horrendous events like he was reading an article from a newspaper. "And then, he stopped. Or more like, lessened the beatings. I, on the other hand, just continued to do what I wanted, spending less time in the house and more of my time out with friends. Even if those guys I hang out with can be assholes at times, they're still a hundred times better than my family."

San intertwined their fingers, wanting to comfort the boy in any way he could. He didn't want Wooyoung to feel like he was alone.

Wooyoung's eyes trailed over his face. "...What about you?"

"I -- I used to get bullied a lot," San focused his gaze on his pillow, feeling too ashamed to be saying this. "I mean, ever since I was young. People at my old neighbourhood used to think that I was cursed for existing, and it worsened when my parents died in a car crash." A lump formed in his throat. "The students at my old school didn't like me -- in fact, they either _avoided_ me or messed with me by grabbing my wrists, pushing me or tripping me over. Especially the guys. That's why I don't like being touched.

"I didn't tell Seonghwa about it either. He already had enough to worry about, and his parents didn't want me being around them. I -- " San's jaw clenched, the lump in his throat getting bigger. "I just felt like a burden to everyone else. No one liked me, and I wanted to simply _disappear_."

Wooyoung's other hand ran over his cheek, cupping it. "You don't need to continue talking about it if you don't want to."

"No," San shook his head. His heartbeat was erratic, especially now that Wooyoung was tenderly stroking his face. "It's fine. I wanna talk about it." His fist clenched. "I won't go into details, but I tried to end my life. Obviously, it didn't work."

Wooyoung was deathly silent now, but his eyes were trained on San, watching, _listening_.

"But I'm glad it didn't."

"Why?" Wooyoung asked, his tone dripping with curiosity.

"Because if it'd worked, if I had died, then I wouldn't have met you..."

Wooyoung recoiled his hand, and the silence between them suddenly grew thick. San panicked, fearing that he'd done something wrong.

"That's so dumb."

San felt like icicles had splintered his heart. "O-Okay."

"I'm not nice, or anything like that. I don't think I've done anything good for you since we've met. But _you_ ," Wooyoung picked at his shirt, purposefully avoiding San's eyes. "You fucking make me _sane_. And you're actually nice. You make me forget about all the bad that's going on in my life, and you've made me smile countless of times, no matter how selfish that sounds." He huffed out a sigh. "Although I may not seem like it, I genuinely enjoy your company. Like, _re_ _ally_. I should be the one thankful that I had met you."

San's heart fluttered, and he felt all warm and mushy inside. And this time, he wasn't annoyed by it. Rather, he _accepted_ it, acknowledging that _this_ was the way he felt only around Wooyoung. And honestly, he didn't mind.

"Thank you," he replied. "For saying that, I mean. Makes me feel nice."

Wooyoung faced him, a big smile painting his features. "You're welcome, prettyboy."

And as always, that petname made San's knees weak. "Don't call me that."

"Prettyboy, prettyboy, _prettyboy_." Wooyoung chanted, poking San's cheek.

San huffed, turning on his side so his back would face the other boy instead. He hoped that would shut Wooyoung up.

" _Fuck,_ " Wooyoung suddenly cursed, sounding alarmed. It got San's attention and caused him to turn around, only to see the former's expression brimming with smugness. "Oh my god, I can't believe that worked."

San tried to seem angry. "I'm going to sleep now."

To his surprise, Wooyoung stretched his arms out.

"Then hug me. I like holding on to something while I sleep."

San was speechless.

"Come _on_ Choi," Wooyoung beckoned, "I'll even be the little spoon."

 _What if I drool on him or something? What if he gets uncomfortable since I'm skinny?_ San's mind was filled with all kinds of thoughts. "I -- I don't know..."

"I won't feel uncomfortable with it, I promise," Wooyoung answered. "I just wanna cuddle."

So San, slowly but surely, reached out his arms to hold Wooyoung, his hands settling around his sides in a hug. Wooyoung moulded into him like he was the smaller one of the two, his body both warm and comfortable under his touch.

San could feel his pulse, smell the fruity shampoo on his hair. Wooyoung's face was pressed against his chest, his fingers casually running over San's clothed waist.

"This is nice," he mumbled.

San had to agree, feeling like was a nanosecond away from exploding into little sparks of happiness. "Yeah..."

Suddenly, something cool slithered underneath his shirt, which had him squealing in shock. He couldn't believe Wooyoung had _actually_ slid his hands into his shirt.

" _Wooyoung_!" He whisper-yelled, while the aforementioned male laughed like a madman.

"I'm _sorry_ ," Wooyoung wheezed, "just wanted to see if you were awake."

San tried to hide the wild blush on his face, even when his bedroom was already so dark. "You fucker."

"Did you blush?"

"...No."

And that night, they talked about their likes and dislikes as they laid in a mess of tangled limbs, bruised minds and tainted hearts laid bare for both to see. But they didn't mind, because at that moment, they knew they had each other.


	19. fire & ice

_Earlier that Saturday._

_-_

It'd been a crazy month for Yunho so far. First, he'd lost his grandma, and although she'd been harbouring health issues as of late, it didn't mean her death hurt any less. Second, his mother was more absent than ever, only flying back to the city to organize her mother's memorial. And after that, she was gone again and out of sight, her presence only felt when she decided she felt like giving her son one or two calls per week. And last, but certainly not least, Yunho was still battling with his entire identity as a whole.

Accepting that he was a gay guy took quite some time for him. At first he ignored it altogether, because how could he be _gay_? How could he be attracted to males? How could he have a crush on one of his closest friends? The discovery of his sexuality made him intolerable of himself, and soon enough, and that feeling quickly transformed into self-hate. It made him lash out, using his status at school to hurt and bully others because it made him feel better about _himself_.

But, that satisfaction never lasted as long as he wanted it to.

The feeling of self-deprecation had reduced now, but it hit Yunho the hardest at night when he rested on his bed, staring at nothing and evaluating his entire existence. It was at times like these that he wished he could disappear, or at least, _be_ like everyone else.

He felt pressured to be a certain way everywhere he went. At school, he was expected to be tough and carefree. With his friends, he was expected to not give a single fuck about anything, when in fact he actually _did_ give a fuck about a lot of things. In front of his mother, he was expected to be silent and compliant, unable to voice his opinions because that was what she regarded as _perfect_. And fuck, it got to Yunho's head at times.

He just wanted to just _be_. No expectations, just _Yunho_.

" _Hello?_ "

Yunho blinked, coming back to reality. And reality was this little girl with long black hair standing by the doorway, a big smile on her face.

"Who are you?" Her words were blunt, but her expression still remained friendly.

Yunho felt nervous for some reason, despite finding it relatively easy to socialize with others. But seeing as this little girl resembled Mingi a lot, he realized that maybe that was why his heartbeat was so erratic.

He quickly nodded. "I'm uh, I'm Yunho."

" _Yunho_?" The girl almost exclaimed. Her small hands then grabbed Yunho's, leading him into the house. Yunho, in the meanwhile, was panicking so much inside. "Mingi talked a lot about you yesterday. He said you're really nice!"

"Oh, uhh," Yunho scratched his cheek. "That's...great, actually."

Mingi's house was filled with pastel browns and reds, making the overall atmosphere warm and open. It was a stark contrast to his own home, which had darker colours and felt cool all the time. That was why Yunho barely spent time at his house; there was no one waiting for him there, anyway.

Behind a lone chair situated at the right corner, was what looked like a wheelchair. Its appearance made Yunho curious as to who could have been using it.

"Dabin, are you _sure_ you can stay in the house by yourself?" A voice from the hallway suddenly made its way into his ears, and Yunho's heartbeat immediately rose through the roof. "If you want, I can call one of your friends' parents over to look after you."

Yunho wiped his clammy hands over his jeans, trying his hardest to calm his nerves. _Fuck, Yunho, stop feeling so anxious. It's just Mingi_.

"No, it's okay!" _Dabin_ replied, her cute smile still present. She gestured wildly at Yunho. "And Yunho's here!"

"Yunho?" Mingi showed up then. He had on a dark red sweater and black jeans that complemented his soft red hair extremely well. Upon seeing the taller male, his smile grew. "Hi."

Yunho really, _really_ hoped he wasn't blushing right now. He gave a little wave. "Hey."

"This is my younger sister, Dabin," Mingi introduced the little girl to Yunho, adjusting the black-framed glasses on his face. "Dabin, Yunho."

"We've already met, haven't we?" Dabin giggled, sparing Yunho another long glance. It brought a slight smile to the boy's face, as she was very adorable.

Yunho nodded. "Yeah."

Mingi's eyes shifted between them, an amused look on his features. He nudged Yunho's arm and chuckled. "We should get going now."

"Y-Yes." Yunho cleared his throat. _Why was he so nervous?_ "We should."

"Goodbye Yunho," Dabin greeted, and Mingi immediately frowned.

"What about me? I'm your older brother."

"Well, goodbye to you, I guess." Dabin squealed when Mingi pinched her cheek, identical smiles on both their faces. "Ugh, let me be!"

Mingi chuckled, letting her go. "Fine. I'll see you later then." He looked up at Yunho, shooting him this soft smile that sent the taller's heart skipping multiple beats. "Let's go."

As soon as the door was shut, Mingi shoved his hands into his pockets, his gaze surveying the neighbourhood. "I think Dabin likes you."

Yunho glanced at the other male, surprised. "What?"

"I'm good at figuring that stuff out."

"Oh."

Mingi patted his back. "Don't worry. She crushes on guys a lot, and forgets about them just as quickly."

Yunho nodded. Mingi's hand on his back made him feel oddly... _shy_. He wasn't used to it, seriously.

Mingi blew out a tuft of air, causing a few strands of his red hair to dangle idly over his forehead. Yunho couldn't help but watch. The shorter boy was so _handsome_.

As they began walking down the sidewalk, Mingi faced Yunho again.

"So... Where are we going? I mean, I've been looking forward to it ever since you gave me those roses yesterday."

Yunho blushed as he remembered his 'gift' for the other boy. After he'd apologized to San earlier that morning, he waited until the school day was over before he'd eventually handed Mingi a pretty bouquet of flowers. It was a simple, cliché gift for an offer of friendship, but Mingi turned out to like it. _A lot_.

And here they were.

"You'll find out where we're going once we reach there," Yunho replied.

"Ooh, so secretive."

"That's me, alright." Yunho held a thumbs up, smiling when Mingi laughed a bit. His heart felt so _light_ , and honestly, only _Mingi_ could make him feel that way.

_* * *_

"You like dogs?" Yunho asked Mingi as soon as the doors to the dog café opened, both teens entering the place.

Mingi's wide grin was contagious. "Uh, _yeah_. I really do."

The soon found a empty seat by the windows, and Yunho had to smile when he spotted Mingi's eyes following the dogs hopping and jumping about. 

"Fuck, I had _no idea_ you'd bring me here," Mingi started. "But wow, I'm really glad you did. You know, I've always wanted a dog as a pet, but mom's allergic to their fur, and I was already -- "

"Hmm?" Yunho rose his eyebrows in confusion when Mingi abruptly cut himself off. He took the opportunity to run his eyes all over the shorter's high cheekbones, brown eyes and pouty lips, memorizing it further while trying to figure out what the shorter was hiding.

  
Mingi exhaled, his grin dimming into a tight-lipped smile. "I'm gonna go order as a thank you for bringing me here. What do you want?"

Yunho stood up and shook his head. "Nah. I'm already paying. _I'm_ gonna order."

Mingi chuckled, raking his fingers through his hair. "Sure. I want a milkshake, coffee isn't really my thing."

And Yunho went ahead to get his and Mingi's orders, the smile on his face not falling off. How could it when he was hanging out with the guy he was so deeply interested in?

Mingi didn't take long to finish his order as he was really eager to go play with the dogs. Yunho chuckled when the red haired male ruffled the fur of one of the smaller dogs, its excited yelps echoing throughout the café.

Mingi had this look of pure _happiness_ on his face, one that Yunho felt extremely lucky to witness. The shorter always made eye contact with him whenever he played with all the animals, and for the first time in a long time, Yunho felt like he was doing something _right_.

"Okay, but like, that one over there reminds me of you," Mingi was saying, which caused Yunho to just snap out of his daze. The taller was glad Mingi hadn't caught on to his extensive staring.

Yunho blinked, his ears a hot pink. "Uh, what?"

Mingi pointed to one of the dogs another customer was currently hanging out with. It was a beagle with soft, spotted brown fur and big, expressive eyes. "That one. It reminds me of you."

Yunho, usually, wouldn't take it too kindly if someone compared him to a pet, but this wasn't just a _someone_. This was _Mingi_ , and whatever Mingi said, Yunho automatically liked. It sounded pathetic, but it couldn't be helped.

"Why?" Yunho asked.

"Its eyes reveal everything it feels, just like yours," Mingi started, affectionately scratching behind the ear of the dog that had made its way towards him. "And it's sociable, wanting to be around others at all times because it just wants someone to call its own. ...Just like you."

Yunho gulped, not knowing what to say. His chest squeezed once he met Mingi's gaze from across their table, but he looked away first. "What..." He licked his lips, "what do you mean by that?"

Mingi sighed, before saying: "You like me, right?"

Yunho looked up again, wide-eyed. "W-What?"

"Come on, you don't need to be scared," Mingi admitted, his voice gentle. "I like you too."

Butterflies scattered about in Yunho's stomach. His hands were _so_ clammy. But yet still, he couldn't speak.

"I want us to be more comfortable with each other. And I'm guessing you want that, right?"

Yunho nodded. "Well, yeah."

Mingi's dog pranced away, leaving both boys alone. Mingi then shifted closer to Yunho, and for the first time ever he was avoiding the taller's gaze.

"Uh," Mingi coughed, appearing awkward all of a sudden. He lifted a bit of his right pant leg, and it took Yunho a moment to notice that the leg _wasn't real_.

"I've got a prosthetic leg. I mean, it's not the _whole_ of my right leg. Just up to the knee area." Mingi softly chuckled, pulling the pant fabric down once more. "That's one of the reasons I spent last year and some of this year absent from school. Had to familiarize myself with it."

Yunho was shocked, he hadn't expected this at all. Mingi looked -- and _walked_ fine, and finding all this out made him suddenly feel guilt. A lump formed in his throat when he remembered that wheelchair he'd seen back at Mingi's home. "Shit, I'm so sorry."

Mingi laughed. "Why are you apologizing?" He waved a dismissive hand. "None of this was your fault, and I'm fine."

Yunho wrung his hands together, not wanting to seem nosy. "Can I ask what happened that, uh, made you..."

" _Fuck_ , Yunho," Mingi answered, his tone serious. He leaned in, hooded eyes trained solely on Yunho's face. "I had a health issue, but _goddammit_ , stop being shy, will you? It's kinda weird. Where's the cool, badass Yunho I'm so used to seeing at school?"

Hearing Mingi cuss like that with his deep voice made Yunho's insides all mushy like he was some prepubescent schoolgirl, because fuck, it was _hot_.

But of course, Yunho would _never_ utter that out loud.

Yunho exhaled and pursed his lips. "I'm sorry. I don't even know why I'm apologizing but I -- " he paused. " _You_ make me nervous."

Mingi nodded. "...Then how can I make you less nervous?" His fingers stroked Yunho's shirt collar and _hell_ , even when they were in public, Yunho frankly did not give a shit. "Kiss you?"

Yunho's breath hitched, eyes shamelessly tracing the curve of Mingi's plump, pouty lips. He yearned to feel them against his, to _familiarize_ himself with them.

But then Mingi leant back, his laugh warming the insides of Yunho's chest. "I'm just kidding."

Yunho desperately wished he wasn't.


	20. breakfast breakdowns

San woke up only to realize that the other side was empty. Absentmindedly, he ran his palms over the surface of the bed, and realized that it felt cold as well. He slowly sat up, recollecting the events of last night, and a dumb blush sprinkled over his cheeks.

 _Idiot_ , he thought. He grabbed the pillow Wooyoung had laid on and sniffed it. It still smelt like the shampoo the dark haired boy had used, strawberry and peach. _Ugh, not only are you an idiot, but you're also a fucking creep, San._

San ignored his thoughts though, opting to shuffle his feet into his slippers instead, his body still dazed from the sleep he'd woken up from. He'd managed not to have any troubling dreams or thoughts for the night, and he just knew that Wooyoung may have been the cause of it. Though he didn't get to sleep for long since he'd been too busy conversing with the dark haired boy, he'd still enjoyed his night nonetheless.

He stood up and headed into the bathroom closest to his room, which had also been the one Wooyoung had used last night.

As usual, San never stared at the mirror by the sink for long. He cupped his hands under the open faucet and washed off the remaining sleep from his face, not wanting to look like trash in front of Wooyoung first thing in the morning.

Then, he ran his hands through his hair, patting down every stray strand he spotted. His hair had grown a bit longer now, long enough that the ends of it tickled the base of his nape. But, San preferred it like that, as it made him feel hidden. _Safe_.

_What if Wooyoung's already left though? Why are you trying to look better when you know you'll always look horrible? What's the point?_

The voices in San's head were mean and discouraging. They cackled and sneered, their sharp words eating through to San's brain and infesting it with their seeds of negativity. And those seeds grew, forming poisonous weeds that tempered with and trampled over the remaining good mood that San had felt.

San huffed, his jaw clenching as he stared at his downtrodden reflection in the mirror. He felt like punching it.

A knock sliced through his array of thoughts.

"San? You in there?" Two more knocks.

The voices in San's mind dissipated, scurrying away into nothingness, and San fidgeted in his spot, his fingers rubbing away at each other.

He realized the water was running, and quickly shut it off, avoiding his reflection at all costs. "Uhm," he began, cringing at how high-pitched his voice came out, "y-yeah, I'm in here."

"What are you doing?" Wooyoung asked. His voice was kind of muffled behind the door, but it brought warmth into San's heart regardless. "Are you like, naked or something?"

San's face turned a bright red. "N-No."

"Okay, then I'm coming in." Less than a second later, Wooyoung stepped in, and it had San standing like a deer in headlights despite not doing anything wrong.

Wooyoung noticed this and chuckled. "Hey," he smiled, "why do you look so scared?"

San shook his head. "I'm not. Just -- tired, I guess."

Wooyoung hooked his arm with his, which had San's thoughts going _crazy_. It was like whatever Wooyoung did had San's internal system freaking the fuck out, and it wasn't in the negative way either.

"I woke up before you and was planning to surprise you with breakfast since you'd offered me a place to stay in late at night, _but_ ," Wooyoung walked out with San, "since you're already awake, we might as well just eat breakfast together in the livingroom. And, did you know your cousin Seonghwa tells some _hilarious_ jokes? I mean, you _live_ with him, so you probably already knew that."

San blinked, trying to take in the million words Wooyoung spewed every second, but to be honest, he really didn't mind it. He _liked_ it when Wooyoung was his smiling, talkative and loud self. It made _him_ feel happy. Flustered, but happy.

San's ears burned further when Wooyoung just guided him into the livingroom, their arms still hooked and their bodies pressed against one another's. Seonghwa was at the dining table sliding three plates of eggs, bacon and toast, but he paused as soon as he saw the both of them.

"Good morning San -- _oh_ ," a surprised smile grew on Seonghwa's face. San felt like burying himself underground. "Uh, you guys are.. _.close_?"

Wooyoung dropped his arm, only for him to fling that arm around San's shoulders. "Yep. San especially likes it when I touch him -- "

"Good morning, Seonghwa," San interrupted, immensely grateful his voice came out composed. He stepped away from Wooyoung and entered the kitchen. "I'm gonna go get the drinks."

As San went to take the glass cups from the counter, he felt something watching him from behind. Turning his head a bit, he saw Wooyoung next to him, a familiar smirk on his lips.

"Hi," Wooyoung said, his lowered voice raspy and deep, like he wanted to sound sexy or something. San, on the other hand, almost dropped a glass.

Embarrassed, he turned and headed back into the livingroom.

Wooyoung sat right next to him, engaging in an easy conversation with Seonghwa. San didn't eat much, his mind was too occupied with Wooyoung's laughter and bright eyes to ingest anything anyway.

"Hey, Choi. Why aren't you eating anything?" Wooyoung whispered to San as soon as Seonghwa got up to leave the room since he'd suddenly gotten a call from someone.

San shrugged, trying to make himself feel less awkward. "I just don't eat a lot. You already know this."

Wooyoung hummed, the pleasant sound tightening the knots in San's stomach. "Okay. ... _But_ , what if I feed _you_ the food? Would you eat a lot then?"

San's heartbeat elevated. He mindlessly played with his fork. "Um."

Wooyoung laughed, but it wasn't loud or boisterous like his other laughs. This time, it was smoother, more subdued, and it lured San in like a charm that he couldn't resist.

"You would, right?" Wooyoung answered for San. And it made San's heart tremble in realization, because the former was utterly, and unanimously right. _H_ _e would_.

So San sat there as Wooyoung fed him bacon, pliant and willing and his nerves set on _fire_. And to make matters more dire, Wooyoung's warm thumb held his chin in place, his dark brown eyes unreadable as they traced after his features. They soon settled on his lips, and San _had_ to look away, his knees turning undeniably weak. He felt like putty underneath Wooyoung's heavy stare.

"Pretty," was all Wooyoung mumbled, and it sent San's entire body burning. Flames licked the inside of his stomach, the butterflies in them turning into stingrays.

Seonghwa came in at that moment, and Wooyoung immediately adjusted his position on his seat. He took a bite of eggs out of his fork (the same one he'd used to feed San just moments prior), a blank look overtaking his features. If San had been another person, he wouldn't have suspected a thing.

 _What did Wooyoung just do?_ San thought, too much of a flustered mess to look the other boy in the eye. _Was he flirting? Or maybe he wasn't. Maybe he was just being nice? Or maybe he's trying to let me know how skinny I look?_

Seonghwa's eyebrows creased in the slightest bit as he sat down, but his lips were set in a small smile as he observed the two teens in front of him. "Hey, everything good here?"

"Mhm," Wooyoung answered a bit too quickly to be normal, but it didn't look like Seonghwa picked up on it. "Everything's absolutely fine."

San swallowed down his drink, truly hoping his hair covered any traces of his blush.

As soon as breakfast was done and plates were washed, Wooyoung changed into his clothes from last night, telling them that he needed to go now.

San followed him out to the porch, unable to hide the worry on his face. He didn't want Wooyoung to go back to his parents' house now, because what if they hurt him there? What if they prevented him from leaving the house ever again? San's mind was swamped with all sorts of possibilities.

"Are you going to your parents now?" San asked, shoving his hands into his pockets to get them warmer. The weather was cool despite the blue skies and bright sunlight; it was a pretty sight to witness. But the boy in front of him was even prettier.

"I'd need to face them sooner or later," Wooyoung replied. The aquamarine dress shirt he had on suited him so well, bringing out the warm chocolate brown of his eyes and complementing his beautiful golden skin. San concluded that he loved seeing this colour the most on Wooyoung.

"Are you sure you'll be okay?" San asked, chewing on his lip while staring at the houses surrounding them. He totally missed the way Wooyoung's eyes trailed after his lips. "I don't want anything bad happening to you."

"Don't worry. I'll call Nina to pick me up, she has some of my clothes in her house already. And when I arrive back at my house, I'll message you, okay?" Wooyoung responded, shooting San a wide smile. "It'll be fine."

San nodded, kicking at nothing. "And, uh..."

"What?"

San met Wooyoung's eyes, biting his nails. "You uh, you look really good in that colour." _What the fuck are you doing, San??_

A pause, one where San was internally panicking and cursing at himself for being so _stupidly_ impulsive.

And then, out of nowhere, something crept over the tips of Wooyoung's ears and settled on his cheeks. _Pink_.

Wooyoung was _blushing_. For like, the first time ever.

"Dude, guess I'll have to wear this colour more often now." Wooyoung laughed, but his eyes darted everywhere. "I have to go now."

The impulsive side of San struck again, because he grabbed Wooyoung's wrist before he could take a step further.

"Wow, um, what's up?" Wooyoung spoke. His eyes focused on the space between San's eyebrows.

"Are you okay?" San asked, half curious and half amused.

Wooyoung quickly nodded. "Yeah. I am."

"Remember to text me when you get home, alright?" San said, his voice strangely levelled despite his thoughts spiralling out of control. He realized he still had Wooyoung's wrist in his grip, and abruptly let go.

Wooyoung nodded again, for once not having much to say. "Sure."

"I'll see you at school tomorrow," San muttered.

Wooyoung licked his lips, leaving them a moist and lovely pink. San resisted the urge to stare at them too much. "Yeah, of course. I'll get going now. Bye."

San found himself following after Wooyoung, for some reason. "Do you want me to follow you to where Nina will pick you up?"

Wooyoung turned, and their noses nearly bumped. San quickly took a step back. _They almost kissed_.

"Nah, it's fine." Wooyoung seemed to realize this as well, because he gulped. His lips formed a firm line. "See you."

San nodded, trying to fight off the pure anxiety he felt. He waved at Wooyoung's retreating form before heading back into his house.

Wooyoung didn't text him that day.


	21. dishonestly honest

_Twisted metal, thick smoke, and blood. There was lots of blood. It spilled all over the granite road, reflecting off the moon in an angry red._

_San wanted to leave this place. He didn't want to be here any longer at the scene of his parents' death. But yet still, his legs forced him to keep moving, his bare feet walking through the blood until the heavily destroyed car was right in front of him._

_He couldn't see his parents' faces, only more blood. So much blood._

_Tears stung the corners of San's eyes and rolled down his cheeks. His heart hurt, everything hurt._

_He stared at his palms, and his hands began to shake because he was bleeding again._

_"You did this," a voice sneered, alerting San's attention. A person stood in front of him and shoved him, almost making him lose his footing. "You killed your parents!"_

_"I -- " San gasped. His heart squeezed in the most painful way, and his knees wobbled, causing him to fall unto the rough road. "_ _I-I'm_ _sorry..."_

_A ghastly Seonghwa knelt before him, two gaping holes for his eyes. His jaw was clenched, this look of fury on his face that San had never seen before._

_He_ _grabbed_ _San's collar, streaks of blood beginning to leak down his cheeks. "And now, you'll kill me too!"_

San sprung up from his bed, his chest heaving and a cold drop of sweat trickling down his temple.

He rubbed his eyes, because he thought that if he did so as hard as possible, then the gruesome image of that accident would disappear forever. He should've been used to this, since this wasn't the first time he's had a nightmare, but for some reason, this one _really_ seemed to affect him a lot.

He wrapped his arms around his bent knees and lowered his head, his breathing laboured and inconsistent. His hands trembled, his thumbs picking at his nails in a rapid fashion.

 _Cool down, think of something nice. You're okay. You're fine_. _Seonghwa doesn't hate you._ San repeated these words in his head until they were like a mantra. _Think of something that you like._

An image of a grinning Wooyoung seated at the school garden planted itself in his mind. The boy's smile was bright and enchanting, rivalling the rays of the sun. The wind then had been _just right,_ tugging lightly at Wooyoung's black locks. San remembered being very happy then.

 _Yes, just think about Wooyoung_ , San instructed himself. _Wooyoung will make you feel better, and he doesn't hate you. You're his friend_. _He thinks you're a good person_.

San screwed his eyes shut, forcing himself to take deep breaths. Half of him wanted to search his drawers for his phone and call Wooyoung, but he knew that it was late at night, and he didn't want to disturb the other. San was still worried as to why Wooyoung had never called nor texted him back, but he convinced himself that the dark haired boy needed his space. The last thing San wanted was to be an inconvenience to someone else, especially someone who had been helping him so much recently.

So, San sucked it up and endured the rest of the night without anyone else getting added to the mix. He'd couldn't afford to feel lonely. After all, he'd been going through his problems alone all this time, right?

_* * *_

  
San never really wanted to go to school today. The place drained all his motivation and was a cesspool filled with judgemental idiots who thought the world revolved around them. He'd learned to block out people's offensive words towards him long ago, but that didn't mean the harsh comments didn't get to him at times.

The weather was a bit iffy too, the skies bordering on cloudy. The whole thing looked depressing, which mirrored San's mood almost perfectly.

He passed by the gates and saw Wooyoung standing off to the side with some taller guy, and contemplated stopping a little so Wooyoung could spot him.

Wooyoung did soon, but his expression remained stoic, his eyes dark and impenetrable. He looked like how he had when San first talked to him.

San guessed that something must have happened at home for him to be acting this way, and his gut flipped with unease at the thought.

Wooyoung kept watching him though, kept sneaking glances at him despite how unwaveringly blank he still appeared. San just slowly rubbed his arm and turned away before anyone could see them exchanging stares.

Throughout the classes San shared with Wooyoung, the latter would totally ignore San, either chatting with his other friends at the back or casually flirting with some of the female students.

And each time San witnessed it, he felt the phantom hole in his heart grow bigger and bigger.

During math, Wooyoung sat a few seats in front of San, and that wasn't because he _suddenly_ had the urge to learn. No, it was to seat with this pretty long-haired girl called Im Sooyun so that he could chat with her some more.

Sure, this wasn't the first time San had seen Wooyoung with girls, but, ever since they'd became friends, the latter had hung out with him a majority of the time. _So why... Why was he being like this?_

 _San, you're being fucking dumb_ , San thought to himself. _Wooyoung can hang out with anyone he wants._ _You're not his only friend. In fact, you're just a classmate he happens to talk to sometimes_.

San's grip on his pen tightened a hundred-fold when Sooyun laughed at something Wooyoung said, the boy just tilting his head with that infuriatingly attractive smirk that made San's heart swell intensely.

And then Wooyoung slightly turned around, and their gazes collided. San accidentally dropped his pen, his fingers suddenly clammy and his heart beating a mile per minute.

 _Fuck fuck fuck, you absolute dumbass_ , San cursed at himself, picking up his stupid pen with his sweaty palms.

He straightened up, once more braving a glance over at Wooyoung's direction instead of focusing on his coursework like a model student. He nearly froze when he caught Wooyoung's stare again.

"Um," San whispered to no one in particular, biting his chapped bottom lip, but then Wooyoung looked away, completely ignoring him until the class was over.

The shrill bell rang, and students quickly filed out of the classroom. Wooyoung was one of the first to leave, and San couldn't help but wonder if he'd done something wrong again.

This was similar to the time Wooyoung had avoided him for the whole week, but that was when they barely knew each other. Now, San knew the boy enough to know that his parents may have had a hand in his strange behaviour.

_* * *_

  
San didn't stay in his class for lunch, and after texting Mingi that he'd be running a little late, he headed down the halls and past several classroom doors until he stumbled across the art room, which was the one Mrs Kim taught in.

No one was there upon first glance, but the door was slightly ajar so San took the chance to step in.

Portraits, empty canvases, paintbrushes and other art supplies were scattered all across the classroom. San pulled on his grey hoodie's drawstrings as his defense mechanism for whenever he felt too exposed or like he was intruding on something he shouldn't.

 _San, go out now. No one's here,_ _doofus_ , a bitter voice in his head snapped, but yet still San stepped further into the class, eyes searching every corner for Wooyoung. Beside a table and a chair was what looked to be Wooyoung's school bag, that expensive black and red bag from some brand that San wouldn't able to spend money at in his lifetime.

San walked towards the bag, wondering if he should lay it on the table, or look around some more for the dark haired male.

The door suddenly slammed shut, which startled San.

"What are you doing here?" A voice asked, and San turned when he realized that he _knew_ this voice.

Wooyoung stood there, his stance oddly cautious for a normally carefree guy like he was.

"I...I saw your bag," San started, noticing that the other boy was now looking somewhere else. And it stung. A lot. San cleared his throat, hating the lump that began to form in it. "Assumed you were inside."

"So now you're stalking me?" Wooyoung asked with a demeaning scoff. He moved closer to San to grab his bag. "You should leave."

San didn't know what came over him then. He stepped in, promptly blocking the other male from his school bag.

Their chests bumped, causing San's heart to leap into his throat. Wooyoung on the other hand, still looked unnervingly emotionless.

"Step aside." Wooyoung's voice was stiff.

"Wooyoung, what's wrong?" San asked. "Why are you like this? Did your parents do something?"

Wooyoung's jaw clenched. " _Fuck off, San_."

 _He told you to fuck off. See, he hates you now, just like everyone else. No one will ever like you_. San's hands curled into tight fists.

"I won't," San answered, maintaining eye contact with the other. Wooyoung's words had stung, he couldn't deny that, but that didn't mean he'd leave when he so obviously knew that something had happened for him to react this way. "I know your parents did something, so please, just _talk_ to me about it. I'm here to listen."

"There's nothing to listen to." Wooyoung made another move to take his bag, but before he could do so San grabbed his wrist. Wooyoung's eyes darkened. "San. Let me go."

"Not until you tell me what happened," San wasted no time in answering. "Isn't that what friends do?"

At this, the other male dryly scoffed. "Friends? Who said we were? Just needed someone to fuck with as a distraction. You were _nothing_ to me."

  
San remembered Saturday night, remembered how up close and personal he and Wooyoung got. They'd talked a lot that night, and it'd been admittedly one of the best nights San had had in a while. But now, Wooyoung's words made it seem like everything had been some twisted illusion.

But still, San refused to take Wooyoung's words to heart. "I know you don't mean that."

Wooyoung's lips formed a sneer, and he crossed his arms. "I do, though. I don't want you anywhere near me again."

The lump in San's throat grew more and more, and his chest constricted painfully. _Stop talking, Wooyoung. Please stop talking. I know you don't mean it_.

"I-I don't want to force you or anything, but I _know_ you want to talk to someone." San inhaled a sharp breath. "You're...you're just being mean to me because you're hurt. And it's fine, I won't judge you for it. I just want to be there for you, just like how you've been there for me."

Wooyoung still frowned, but his eyes had grown soft, _lost_. They glistened and reflected pain and fury, but those emotions weren't directed at San.

"I shouldn't be with you," he muttered, but his voice lacked all the edge it previously had.

San cautiously held him close, afraid to startle or anger the other boy. His arms settled around Wooyoung's back as he nestled his chin on his shoulder.

"You're okay," San gently reassured.

Wooyoung's body was still rigid, but a few seconds after, he slowly reciprocated the hug. "I can't hate you, no matter how much I try to."

San shut his eyes, his heart racing. "I can't hate you either. In fact, I think I like you more and more."

"Don't have feelings for me. I can't and won't return them."

San's heart felt as if it'd been ripped open by a dagger. "...I don't like you like that." _Lies, lies, lies_.

Wooyoung hugged him more, like he didn't want to let go. "Good."


	22. write out your woes

  
After school, San suggested that Wooyoung should walk home with him -- but only if he'd wanted to. After their bruising conversation in Mrs Kim's art room, Wooyoung had grown a lot more subdued, his shoulders hunched and his eyes glazed over as if he wasn't mentally _there_ at the moment.

And San, naturally cared about it. He was worried, despite his thoughts split between continuing his friendship with the dark haired male, or distancing himself from him as much possible before anyone got hurt. And of course, the decision shouldn't have been _this_ hard, as San normally would've chosen the latter option without a single hesitation. _But now..._

Now that the alluring boy named Jung Wooyoung had seamlessly etched his way into San's mind and heart, it had became increasingly more difficult to cut through the strings that bounded them together. Even if those strings were currently weak, their surface marred by the growing tension between them, they were still there, and they still held on.

"Seonghwa has an evening shift today..." San found himself muttering, his slightly shaking fingers tugging at his uneven hoodie drawstrings. "We could complete some homework together..."

At this, Wooyoung stopped what he'd been doing, which was zipping up his school bag, and then looked up, his expression inscrutable.

San, for utterly dumb reasons, feared he'd angered the other again. Wooyoung's words were still ringing in San's mind, scorching his very core. And to be honest, he didn't want to hear those words again.

"I mean, _if you want!_ I just...thought that maybe you'd need a break from everything," San clarified. "But if your parents want you home quickly then that's totally fine."

The statement concerning Wooyoung somehow being _caged_ inside his parents' grip sounded stupid, but San had lived the past four years of his life without his parents so he couldn't have an opinion in it, no matter how much it stung.

Wooyoung huffed a laugh, pulling his bag off the table. "It's funny," he commented, his tone lacking in versatility.

San blinked and forced his fingers to remain still. "W-What's funny?"

"That you think I come home when my parents want me to," Wooyoung replied. He looked up then, his eyes this dark pool of mischief.

And San gulped, because the other's gaze had always been _intense_ , and now was one of those times he realized it more than ever.

"Okay." San cleared his throat. "Cool."

Wooyoung shoved his bag at San's chest, making the latter nearly stumble. "But you're holding my bag this time, Choi."

"But -- " San opened his mouth to protest, but Wooyoung had already marched out of the classroom.

_* * *_

  
The air had gotten a lot colder now -- it made sense since it was early March -- and the clouds were steadily darkening, so San and Wooyoung opted for taking the bus in case it started to rain. The scenario reminded San of the time he'd bled and had to call Wooyoung to help him. He wondered if the latter still thought about it, but he hoped not.

He and Wooyoung sat at the back, and he busied himself with staring out the window while Wooyoung typed on his phone, unusually quiet again.

"So, uh," San said as a very lame attempt at starting small talk, "what're you doing?" As he said this, he traced unusual shapes on the window because he needed something to do with his hand.

"Checking memes on Twitter," was Wooyoung's flat response.

"Oh."

"D'you have one?"

"Huh?"

"A Twitter account."

"No..."

At this, Wooyoung unexpectedly snickered. "Fuckin' figures. You're _such_ a nerd."

San scrunched his nose. He felt attacked and had the great need to defend himself, just like the previous times Wooyoung had jabbed at his lack of a social life. "I am _not_."

"Come _on_ dude," Wooyoung turned to fully face San, the spark his eyes one had flashing. "You're totally a nerd. The 'hermit crab' type of nerd. Why don't you have a social media account?"

Maybe San should've just kept his mouth shut in the beginning. But then again, seeing Wooyoung returning to his chatty self sent satisfaction pumping through his veins.

"I just...don't find the need for it," San replied.

"Why? You don't like posting things about yourself?"

 _Yeah, because I'm uninteresting and have this weird bleeding problem that's both hellish and makes me incredibly insecure of myself as a_ _whole_ _._ San swallowed and looked at his lap. "Kinda."

Wooyoung looked around the nearly empty bus, and then shifted a little closer to San. This, obviously, had the latter's entire body getting rigid.

"You have looks, though."

Fucking _boulders_ bounced around in San's stomach, and his cheat felt as if someone had just struck a match on it. _Stop being so obvious and stupid, San. You're such an idiot_.

"You're lying," San spoke, noticing at the bus was nearing the block where he lived. "We both know I'm below average."

 _Of course_ he was. He was too skinny, too weird looking, too shy, too stupid, too much of a loser, and too miserable. He was just _too_ much of the negatives, and no matter what anyone else said, San _knew_ that he'd never be good enough for anyone.

Wooyoung just sighed beside him. "I probably sound cliché right now, but you seriously don't look that bad. I feel like..." His thumb twirled around a lock of San's hair, "like a new hairstyle would strengthen your prettyboy-ness."

"Prettyboy-ness?" San did that thing where he just pushed out a breath to show his amusement. He bet his face was already on fire. "Gross. And I don't want a haircut."

Wooyoung's finger tapped his chin. "A good hairstyle would show off your face more, as well as those rad cheekbones you have. And your jawline's so sharp I feel like it'd _hurt me_."

San _really_ laughed at that one. "I can't tell if you're genuine or just making fun of me."

"I mean everything I'm saying." Wooyoung looked absolutely serious, his lips pulled into this boyish smile that made San's heart noticeably flutter. It was hard, but San couldn't fall for him, even when he had a feeling that deep down he'd already had. "If you show off your face a little more, then you'd be scoring chicks left and right. _Or_ guys, I don't judge."

San just opted to look away at that moment as a lame attempt to hide his warm cheeks.

_* * *_

  
To be honest, San felt a little bit overwhelmed bringing Wooyoung into his house for the second time in a row, even when he knew he obviously had no reason to. It's not like Wooyoung was judgemental or anything, and he didn't look like the type to turn his nose at things that didn't scream _fancy_ , even when he'd gave off this 'mean boy' vibe in the beginning.

But as Wooyoung walked past the livingroom and into the hall that led to his room, San realized the reason he felt so jumpy was that Seonghwa wasn't around this time. They were _alone together_.

 _Don't make it weird_ , San thought, feeling like smacking himself at that moment. The urge to hit himself grew as soon as his mind become flooded with different scenarios as to how this hang out could end.

" _Saaaan_? What're you doing down there?" Wooyoung exclaimed. His voice was sudden and nearly made San jump out of his fucking skin.

"N-Nothing," San stuttered, before rushing into his room with his and Wooyoung's school bag in hand.

Similar to that Saturday night, Wooyoung had sprawled himself on top of San's bed. "Know it sounds weird saying this, but your bed is just _really_ fucking comfy. And the sight of the sky outside your window makes me calm."

San blinked, before putting his and Wooyoung's bags beside his homework table.

"Wouldn't your own bed be more comfortable?" He asked, wondering if he should eat next to Wooyoung or just plant himself on his homework chair. He opted for the latter 'cause he didn't want to be weird. Wooyoung's words were still fresh on his mind.

Wooyoung's nose scrunched with distaste. "No. I can never sleep properly with my family members a few rooms away. What if they fucking tried to _poison_ me or something?" He chuckled, but San didn't hear any humour in it.

"I know you'd probably get annoyed with me saying this, but...you sure you're okay?" San questioned, fiddling with the pens on the table.

"Yeah." Wooyoung sat up, hugging San's pillow like he was a little kid. "So, what now?"

San was well aware of the boy's attempt to change the subject, but he still felt the need to say something regarding the matter. "I-I kinda have a list of things I try to follow whenever I'm not feeling the best."

"Like, thinking of nice things?" Wooyoung added, his voice sounding a _lot_ closer now. San almost jumped and looked up to see Wooyoung staring down attentively at him. Their eyes awkwardly met, resulting in San having to hurriedly look away.

"Yeah." San cleared his throat, and grabbed a lone notebook laid on the table. "I also work on my homework and any other assignments that I have." He rubbed his hands together. "I also listen to music whenever I have the time."

"Type in your passcode and give me your phone."

San did as he said, but then realized what the other may have been up to. "Wait -- "

" _Oooh_ , _Chase Atlantic_?" Wooyoung cooed. "You _kinky_ fucker."

San grabbed his phone before Wooyoung could see any more songs on his playlist. "I just -- "

" _Hmmm_?" Wooyoung cut in with his eyebrows raised. He looked _so_ amused.

"Shut up." San begged, his cheeks all flamed up. "I just like the melodies, that's it."

"Sure." Wooyoung crossed his arms. "And...what else? What else do you do?"

"I used to write out whatever I felt, especially after my parents...died," San cleared his throat again. "Maybe you should try it, if talking about it may be too hard for you."

"So what you're saying is...you had a _diary?_ "

San shook his head. "It's a journal."

"Can I read it?"

"No."

"I hate you right now."

"Don't care."

Wooyoung gasped in response, which made San crack a big smile. "...Do it again."

San stopped smiling. "Do what again?"

"You can laugh, _sure_ , but you never really _smile_ a lot," Wooyoung explained. "That's why you should do it again, 'cause it suits you."

San picked his nails. "I don't exactly like my smile."

"Well _I_ do."

As a dumb attempt to distract himself from his racing heart, San pulled out some books from his bag. "...Let's do some homework."

Wooyoung loudly groaned, flopping his body over San's bed.

San found himself smiling again, but it disappeared the second his and Wooyoung's eyes met.

"Did you _just_ smile?"

"No."

_* * *_

  
"You know," Wooyoung began half an hour later. He looked up from his notes. "Yunho's been acting real strange lately."

The mention of the blue haired male made San iffy despite the former already apologizing to him and leaving him alone. "Yeah?"

"He left school really quickly today too," Wooyoung continued, twirling one of San's pens in his fingers. "And you know who else immediately left school after classes ended? _Mingi_."

"Doesn't mean anything," San replied. "Tons of people leave school as soon as it ends."

"Yeah, but," Wooyoung watched San. "Mingi said he was gonna meet someone after school during lunch, right? And then Yunho told me earlier today that he was meeting someone after school. They said the _exact same thing_."

San didn't know what Wooyoung was trying to say. Sure, he was there when Mingi exposed that Yunho liked him, but he'd never seen them around school together. "...Lots of people meet other people after school."

Wooyoung gave an exasperated sigh. "Yunho's been crushing on Mingi since last year. Ever since Friday, he's been excited as fuck. And today, he seemed to be in a huge hurry."

San inched away, not knowing why Wooyoung seemed so passionate with this matter. "I still don't think they're seeing each other."

"Okay." Wooyoung tapped the pen on the homework table. "Let's make a deal. If Mingi and Yunho are actually 'dating' or whatever, you get a makeover. If they _aren't_ dating or seeing each other at all, then I have to dye my hair white which would probably make my parents kill me."

San swallowed. He really didn't know about this. "Uhh... _okay_?"

Wooyoung took his iPhone and texted someone.

"Wait, who are you texting?"

Wooyoung smirked. "Yunho."

"But -- " San shut his mouth. "Fine..."

**\- wooyoung**   
_yunhooo_ _, where are u rn_

**\- wooyoung**   
_are you w mingi??_

**\- yunho**   
_no_

**\- wooyoung**   
_sureee_   
_u know u can tell me anything right?_

**\- yunho**   
_i know_   
_k_   
_i'm w mingi_

**\- wooyoung**   
_are you two into each other_

**\- yunho**   
_...maybe?_

San jumped when Wooyoung suddenly fist bumped the air.

"Wohoo!" He hollered, and San began to question his sanity.

"What?"

"Looks like _you're_ getting a _makeoveeerrr_ ," Wooyoung exclaimed while clapping his hands.

"Uhm." San looked away, his head feeling oddly light. His eyebrows furrowed, but then his eyes widened when he felt something wet trail down his nose.

"Shit, your nose is bleeding," Wooyoung's startled words only confirmed San's fears, and panic infested his veins.

"W-Wooyoung," San started. He hated the way his voice shook. His hands trembled, and he didn't know why _this_ had to happen now. "Don't -- don't call the ambulance."

"San -- " Wooyoung stood up and rushed over to him. His hands held onto San's arms.

"I want you to...to take me to that room close to mine. It's where -- where I go to when this happens in the house..." San answered, feeling more and more lightheaded. "Don't wanna stain the carpet..."

Wooyoung's eyes held this _fear_ that San had never witnessed before. "O-Okay." He helped San to his feet, his warm touch incredibly comforting to the other. "Fuck. You'll be okay...right?"

San looked away. "I'm used to it. Just place me on the bed inside the room, I should wake up soon."

Wooyoung quickly nodded. "...Alright."


	23. it's okay to not be okay

San opened his eyes, blinking repeatedly in order to adjust his eyes to the room's unstable lighting. His heart was beating erratically like he'd just ran a marathon, and he immediately sat up, recollecting the events that took place prior.

His nose starting to bleed, him telling Wooyoung to bring him into this room, him promptly blacking out with the touch of Wooyoung's palm on his back.

 _Fuck!_ San's inner voice exclaimed. Out of all the times _this_ could've happened, his body just had to _die_ when Wooyoung was around.

He noticed the dark haired male wasn't around, and his mind automatically divulged into the worst case scenarios.

 _Wooyoung was probably grossed out and decided to leave_ , San thought. _He probably thinks you're a freak. Sure, telling him you bleed is one thing, but witnessing it? Of course he'd fucking want to escape when he could_.

San pushed himself to stand up, and that was when he saw that the room was...empty. Empty in the sense that it looked _clean_.

It never usually looked like that whenever he first woke up after dying, as Seonghwa had an understandable aversion to the sight of blood, even though he didn't like admitting it.

He cringed at the disgusting metallic taste in his mouth, and his breathing was all choked up and uncomfortable.

San knew he needed to get out of there.

But then the door suddenly opened, the light from the outside word piercing through the room's interior and right into San's frightened heart.

He froze, before looking away when his eyes fell upon a familiar figure by the door.

"San?"

San gulped. " _Hwa_."

It didn't take long for Seonghwa to shorten the distance between them and engulf the younger male in a hug, which surprised San.

"H-Hyung -- " San stuttered. "It'll -- _I'll_ ruin your clothes -- "

"I'm wearing one of my older outfits, so it's fine," Seonghwa reassured. He patted San's hair, his fingers sending pleasant chills down San's neck.

Seonghwa's touches were always comforting, but at that moment, _something_ felt different. San's heart was still racing, and he felt scared and _ashamed_. Those self-deprecating thoughts had inserted themselves into his mind again, and he couldn't get rid of them.

His hands shook at his sides, and his voice came out scratchy and parched. _Pathetic_. "Is -- is he here? I d-don't know what I'd do i-if he isn't. I-I don't k-know how I can face him now..."

San sniffed. _Talking_ was painful, but he kept going like a cracked, broken dam. "He is... He was actually a _f-friend_ , Hwa. But _now_ , now I probably fucked that up too. Y-You know, like I fuck _everything_ up. I-I bet he's gone. Won't b-be surprised if -- if he is. I mean, I-I would too."

" _San_ ," Seonghwa began, but San continued to speak, echoing off the hidden thoughts that poisoned his mind and made it difficult to tolerate and actually _like_ himself.

"I'd hate it if he hates me. But then again, h-he probably does. No one likes me. _No one_. I'll -- I'll always be alone -- "

" _San_!" Seonghwa exclaimed, disbelief coating his voice. He stared intently at San, but his cousin was staring at the floor instead, his words starting to get heavier and heavier in tone. "San, _please_ , listen to me. You'll never be alone, because you'll have me, okay? You'll _always_ have me."

San still refused to meet the older male's stare. He was embarrassed, and he began to wipe off the tears that'd started forming in his eyes. "Fuck," he cursed, repeated said word over and over again. "I'm so sorry. Shit, I really hate this."

Seonghwa quickly shook his head. When San braved a glance at him, he could see how hard he tried to keep up the bright smile on his face. "You have no reason to apologize, Sannie."

But San continued to tear up, unable to stop. God, when the hell did he turn out to be such a _crybaby_? He kept trying to wipe away his tears, but they kept falling. _What a fucking burden you are_.

"Wooyoung..." Seonghwa began, unknowingly causing San's head to jerk up. "He's here, actually. On the couch in the livingroom. He fell asleep around an hour ago..."

San sniffed again, continuing to feel all pathetic and unbearably small. He was almost a hundred percent sure that his nose looked all stuffed and a gross red. "R-Really?"

"Mhm," Seonghwa answered. His voice had gotten more quiet, and his eyes held sympathy. San despised that look on his face, because it made him feel like he was just some _melodramatic child_. "He didn't leave. He told me to let him know when you're awake."

San swallowed hard, his fists clenched tight. Before he knew it, his feet led him out the door, because Wooyoung was the magnet that pulled him in and kept him sane, the light that shone through the darkness that plagued his heart.

And sure enough, Seonghwa was right. On the couch was Wooyoung, his head of black hair poking out of the grey blanket Seonghwa had probably gifted to him.

San moved closer to him, uncaring as to how he looked at that moment. He probably appeared like a mess and probably reeked of blood, but all he wanted was to know that Wooyoung was actually _there_. That he hadn't left him.

And Wooyoung hadn't. He was right there, asleep and adorably messy haired, his face absent of all worries and sadness. He looked like a baby, and it was a sight that made San swear to himself to never forget.

 _I want to get rid of everything that bothers him_ , San thought, _even when I end up being included_.

Wooyoung's eyelashes then fluttered open unexpectedly, and then he was hurriedly sitting up, staring at San with wide eyes.

"You're awake. Fuck," he kicked off the blanket. "Are you okay?"

San wanted to hide and never come out again. His lips quivered, body trembling like he was a leaf in the wind, and his eyes stung with more tears.

"San. You're crying." Wooyoung sounded panicked, but his voice unfortunately made San shed more and more tears. "What's going on? W-Why are you crying? Seonghwa hyung, w-what's going on?"

San used his hands to shield his tear streaked face from view, miserable wails leaving his lips. He could feel Seonghwa's arms surrounding him in a protective hold, his words to Wooyoung's startled self sounding muffled and distant. Never in his life had he cried so much, never in his life had he _loathed_ himself so much.

_Stop fucking crying. If you don't, Wooyoung will hate you. But then again, he already does, doesn't he?_

_"...need to go now, unfortunately... needs to calm down... I'm sorry... has to rest... don't tell anyone..."_

_"San... stay with him... won't intrude... promise you..."_

San's chest continued heaving sporadically, and his memories from then on were so jumbled and incoherent that when he found himself on his bed staring blankly at his ceiling, he didn't even question it. His eyes felt all dry and used up, his heart felt empty, shattered. He didn't know what he was _supposed_ to feel at that moment, and for once, he had no thoughts at all.

He didn't even know what time it was.

His phone buzzed on the table, and he guessed that they must've been texts from Wooyoung probably. He didn't bother checking them though. Didn't bother doing anything.

_* * *_

  
**\- wooyoung**   
_hey, san_   
_um_   
_i just got home because seonghwa said i should get going_   
_and uh_   
_and my parents_   
_asked where i was_

**\- wooyoung**   
_nothing bad happened though_   
_if you were wondering_

**\- wooyoung**   
_but, hey_   
_i hope you're okay now_

**\- wooyoung**   
_i'm bad at expressing my feelings, but i just want to let you know that i'm worried_   
_about you_

**\- wooyoung**   
_i dont think i'll be able to sleep now, to be honest_

**\- wooyoung**   
_i dont think i can handle you crying again_   
_was it because of me?_   
_did i do something wrong?_

**\- wooyoung**   
_i cant stop thinking about it_

**\- wooyoung**   
_you don't need to reply now_   
_take your time n_ _rest_   
_i wont get mad if you dont show up at school tomorrow_

**\- wooyoung**   
_i'm sorry because of what i said earlier_   
_i wish i hadn't lashed out on you_   
_i wish i'd said something else_   
_fuck_   
_im_ _sorry for cursing but i'm just so frustrated_

**\- wooyoung**   
_not at you though, i promise_

**\- wooyoung**   
_i wish i'd helped you_   
_i'm so sorry_

**\- wooyoung**   
_i promise i'll make it up to you_   
_i'm_ _sorry_

**\- wooyoung**  
 _have a good night san_ 🌙


	24. and it all comes crashing down

San spent most of his morning in bed since he wasn't going to school, and for more than half of that time, he kept reading and rereading Wooyoung's texts, and then chickening out before he could reply back with something.

He felt bad about it, but he was also embarrassed due to what had happened last night. He didn't think he could handle seeing the other boy for a while.

San was tired. So, so tired. And he didn't want to eat anything even when his stomach began to grumble a few minutes in. All he did was lie on his bed and stare at nothing, the bad voices in his head roaming around and spitting heinous words that made him hate himself even more.

But then a message entered, a new one from the boy who'd been spending the most time with him lately. Just the sight of his contact name made San's heart squeeze and his stomach twist and turn.

**\- wooyoung**   
_i showed up at the classes we had together so i could take the notes you missed_

**\- wooyoung**   
_i know, i'm awesome_

**\- wooyoung**   
_did you sleep well?_

**\- wooyoung**   
_i couldnt_   
_cause i was too busy thinking about u_

_Don't have feelings for me. I can't and won't return them._ Wooyoung's harsh words of yesterday seized San's mind, bringing about that familiar ache in his chest that he didn't want to get used to. It frustrated San that Wooyoung's words and actions could be so alarmingly _different_ from each other. It irritated him, because it only led to more confusion and hurt down the road.

 _Don't do this to me,_ San thought. _Stop it, I don't like it_.

But still, Wooyoung continued to send him messages, oblivious to the world of emotional turmoil San was going through.

**\- wooyoung**   
_i should come over after school, right?_   
_i want to, if you don't mind_

**\- wooyoung**   
_i want to give you some company_   
_is ice cream okay?_   
_i'm getting this feeling that you haven't had anything since morning_

San's grip on his phone hardened, his fingers gradually turning white from the pressure. He barely thought of anything when he sent his first text to Wooyoung since the week started.

**\- san**   
_why do you care_

Then San blanked out, because -- _did he just send that?_

**\- wooyoung**   
_what do you mean?_

**\- san**   
_nothing_

**\- wooyoung**   
_??_

San panicked. He really didn't want the other boy showing up, and that was because he was still reeling from shame over what had happened the other night.

**\- san**   
_don't come over_

San panicked _again_. _Why_ did he keep sending these borderline dismissive text messages?

**\- wooyoung**   
_why_

**\- san**   
_because i dont want you to_

**\- wooyoung**   
_wait_   
_is it because of what i said_   
_i already apologized_

**\- san**   
_don't fucking come over, alright_

**\- wooyoung**   
_huh_   
_okay_   
_fine_

**\- wooyoung**  
 _alright_.

San _knew_ he'd probably pissed Wooyoung off, and _of course_ he felt guilty about it. The guilt was eating him alive, especially when Wooyoung was only trying to be nice.

But that was part of the problem. San didn't want Wooyoung to try to be nice to him when he knew that it would only cause more unwanted feelings and situations down the road. And San was tired of _feeling_.

He just wanted to be left alone.

**\- san**   
_im sorry_

Wooyoung didn't answer.

_* * *_

  
San eventually cooped himself on the livingroom couch, a blanket wrapped around his form. He felt like some shell, with nothing tangible to do than to laze around and think negative thoughts until his eyes hurt from crying too much.

And San couldn't even _understand_ it. He'd never cried this much in a long, long time. He'd just possibly lost a good friend because of his stupid insecurities, and once again he was on the path to being abandoned.

And it was no one's fault but his.

His phone then rang, the shrill and monotonous ringtone making the seventeen-year-old fall off the couch in a less than graceful manner.

San grabbed the phone, but was then unable to hang up because of Wooyoung's contact name that lit up through the screen.

San froze up, sharply inhaling a breath, and then picked up, bracing himself for the absolute worst.

"Hi..." San spoke first, his voice bordering on a whisper. He hated it, but there wasn't much he could do about it.

" _Open the door_."

"W-What?" San stuttered.

" _I --_ " Wooyoung paused, muttering a curse underneath his breath. The sound of ruffled bags was heard. " _Open the door. My hands hurt and I don't wanna drop anything._ "

"Wooyoung -- " San began, but the other male beat him to it with a hurried knock on the door.

" _Newsflash: you can't send me away now. I'm already here_."

San wanted to be mad. He felt like he _had_ to be mad. After all, Wooyoung showed up without his permission. But all he felt was shame coupled with a certain type of numbness. It was a strange and shitty combination.

San went and opened the door, immediately unable to look Wooyoung in the eyes. He spotted the many bags the other held in his arms, and wondered how much trouble he had bringing them all here.

Wooyoung was looking at him though. And as always, he appeared to have read San's mind. "Don't worry, I got dropped off."

San helped him with the bags of food and drinks, still struggling to meet his eyes. He cleared his throat, the aromatic smell of the food making him realize just how hungry he was. "Uhm, you didn't have to..."

"I _wanted_ to," Wooyoung smiled, already taking a sip out one of the soda cans he brought. "Sorry for crashing in your house uninvited, but I couldn't help myself. The restaurant I went to serves _amazing_ food, so I just had to order some."

He then plopped himself on the couch and began pulling out the servings of food, smiling impishly at a nervous San. He gestured at them afterwards. "Dig in dude, what are you waiting for?"

As soon as San sat down, Wooyoung passed him a small box of seasoned chicken. "Hey, try this out first. Delicious stuff."

"Uh, okay," San answered, before shyly taking a drumstick for himself. He took a bite, but nothing more than that since he felt observed under Wooyoung's heavy gaze.

"Why'd you stop?" Wooyoung asked. "You don't like it?"

"No, um," San cleared his throat. "You just keep staring at me..."

Wooyoung quickly looked away. "Oops, sorry. Just -- eat whatever you wanna eat. I'll watch something in the meantime. Hey, I can borrow your tv remote, right?"

San nodded. "Sure."

And thus began the long yet eventful afternoon filled with San stuffing his face with as much variety of food as he could, while catching Wooyoung staring at him from every few minutes.

"Try the noodles with those rice cakes." Wooyoung would input these suggestions from time to time, laughing out loud in amusement whenever the food drew out an approved hum from San.

Wooyoung would play a movie (horror or comedy, nothing else), and then take several sips out of his soda can, noting the types of food San appeared to favour over the others. Now, he knew San preferred seasoned chicken over fried, liked kimchi but not too much of it, wasn't too fond of vegetables and really seemed to enjoy eating the rice cakes and dumplings.

"Aren't you gonna eat something?" San questioned after he caught Wooyoung's stare again.

"Nah," Wooyoung shook his head. "Already ate. But _you_ , however..." He suddenly leaned in, making San clam up like he was a hermit crab. "Didn't know you liked food that much. Or maybe it's because I bought it?"

San gulped. "Shut up."

Wooyoung laughed, and _god_ was San entranced with the sight of it. Wooyoung already had a beautiful smile, but it magnified even further whenever he laughed.

"But, since you asked, okay," Wooyoung continued. He grabbed a pair of chopsticks and took a bite of chicken. "Hmm, it tastes good, just like I'd expected." He then giggled right at San, causing him to promptly look away, the tips of his ears on fire.

 _Do you have to make everything so obvious dumbass?_ San frowned at himself, having the insane urge to slap himself at that moment.

"You're okay, right?"

Wooyoung's words snapped San out of it, and when their eyes locked, San chewed on his bottom lip. "Huh?"

Wooyoung chuckled, but the look in his eyes was completely serious. "About what happened yesterday -- "

"I'm okay," San interrupted.

"...Was it because of me?"

"No."

"Well, I..." Wooyoung brought his knees up to his chest and cleared his throat. "I... stayed near you for, like, an hour after you uh, passed out. Luckily, you didn't bleed a lot."

San pushed his palms down his hair, his cheeks painted a dark pink. " _Fuck_ ," he breathed. "I'm so fucking sorry you got to see that. _Gosh I'm so embarrassed_."

"Don't worry, blood doesn't scare me or anything," Wooyoung assured. "It's just..." He sighed, looking conflicted.

"What? What is it?" San asked. He didn't mean to sound impatient, but something was telling him he wouldn't like what he heard next.

Wooyoung's eyebrows furrowed, and he looked so unsure. "Okay, don't freak out. But when I put you down on the bed...you had no heartbeat. I mean, I checked your pulse and everything, but there was _nothing_. And -- and I got so scared. It came back a few seconds later, but it still _terrified_ me."

San's breath hitched, and he started to pick his nails. "It's nothing to get worked up about."

"But why did your heart stop?"

"...It's a condition."

"A condition that makes your heart stop totally?" Wooyoung's tone dripped with disbelief.

San looked away. "Yeah..."

"You know you can tell me anything right? I'll keep my mouth shut about it if you want me to."

"I'm not hiding anything."

Wooyoung just stared at him with that same blank expression of his that'd unnerved San when they'd barely known each other, but now that they were friends, San could see the masked hurt in his eyes.

"I acted like a complete emotionless dick for most of my childhood, getting into many fights and whatnot. Things were already rocky with my parents, and everyone at school pissed me off. I just did whatever I wanted," Wooyoung said, leaning into the couch. "Mom had enough and took me to get my behaviour checked by a psychiatrist, and it turned out I had something called Conduct Disorder. Explained a lot, but I hated the diagnosis. I couldn't do anything about it though. I had to get therapy several times from elementary school to the start of high school, and it fortunately helped calm me down for a while.

"But it just gave my dad and the rest of my family more and more reasons to dislike me," Wooyoung continued. "And I'm pretty sure that if I keep acting out, they won't hesitate to try and _fix me_ again. Sometimes, I still struggle to understand how people feel and how to empathize with others."

"Wooyoung," San whispered, not knowing what to say. He didn't know much about Conduct Disorder, but now that the former had mentioned it, it put some of the things Wooyoung did in perspective. "I'm sorry..."

Wooyoung shook his head. "Don't. Don't say that. I just told you something I rarely tell others, and I really don't want pity. I just want you to trust me."

"I _do_ trust you."

"Then tell me what really happened back there."

San fisted his hands over and over again, hating how clammy they felt. God, he was so nervous, but he wanted to believe Wooyoung's words. The darked haired boy said that he could trust him, and San wanted to do that.

"When my heart...stopped," San inhaled a breath, "I'd _died_. Whenever I bleed and blackout, I end up dying."

Wooyoung's face scrunched with mild confusion. " _How_?"

"The first incident took place when I was born, and the second was on my thirteenth birthday. During these times, I'm unaware of what's going on around me, and I momentarily stop breathing and then wake up minutes or even hours later. I never know when the next one will hit." San kept his voice low and steady, but even then he couldn't hide the anxiety he felt. "A-And sometimes... It affects o-others too."

 _This is it,_ he thought forlornly. _Wooyoung probably thinks that you're a monster. He'll leave you, of course he will_.

Wooyoung's face had grown more emotionless. "...How exactly does it affect others?"

"W-Wooyoung -- "

"San, _tell me_ ," Wooyoung pressed, something dark crossing his features. He looked at San like he was staring at someone he just met.

It scared San.

"I c-can't..."

" _San_ , I need you to answer me truthfully."

San tightly shut his eyes, his hands beginning to shake excessively. "Wooyoung, _please_."

Wooyoung's next words echoed in San's mind, shattering the semblance of peaceful ignorance that San had wanted to hold on to for just a little while longer. "Do you... _kill others_ when you die?"

San's internal system was freaking out. He didn't know how he could ever answer that question. His head hurt, and his heartbeat was livid.

But then Wooyoung was gripping his shoulder, his touches light yet absolutely _unbearable_. They scorched and burned all the way through San's skin, and he became _afraid_. "Answer the question, San."

San looked up then, reddish, tearful eyes meeting Wooyoung's piercing ones. "...Y-Yeah..."

Wooyoung let him go like _he_ was the one being burned instead, and his eyes were wide, _shocked_.

San felt like he was dying again, but this time around, the pain was amplified. " _Please_.. _.please don't leave me_. _Please_."

But... Wooyoung did.


	25. when you touch me

_Hollow_.

That was how San felt for the next few days. His chest felt far too compressed for its own good, making breathing and even _talking_ an unbearable task that he unfortunately had to participate in. It felt as if there'd been a hole torn in him, one that easily couldn't be stitched up with mere assurances or positive happenings. It left him vulnerable and open, his already weakened heart exposed to judging eyes and predatory thoughts that were eager to feast on its pathetic and pitiful state.

Choi San _himself_ was pitiful. Even as a young boy he'd had a quiet character, too willing to let others have their way with him or take advantage of him all because he'd been too scared to speak up in fear of angering them. Throughout the years of his hopeless existence on Earth, he'd been shunned and disgraced, tampered with before eventually being tossed aside like unwanted trash when the others deemed him done and over with.

He was chosen and plucked by the Universe's unlucky hands, made to set out on a twisted journey full of ups and downs, cruel setbacks and bleak destinations. He had no real reason to be alive other than to inflict pain upon others and himself. And for some time, he'd been fine with that.

That is, until Jung Wooyoung came along. The boy had unknowingly pulled San up to his feet, and introduced him to experiences above and beyond what he could've ever imagined, with fresher perspectives and blooming horizons that left San hoping and wishing that everything would have lasted for at least a little while longer.

But, all good things came to an end eventually.

And just as quick, San was now back to being a lone soul.

San inhaled a choked breath as he stared himself down in front of the mirror that Friday morning, three days since his life had become void of Wooyoung's presence.

His eyes showcased a deep hateful _darkness_ that nearly surprised him. His skin was pale, and an off-shade of pink splotched over his cheeks. He appeared even more gaunt than usual, and the mere sight of himself made him want to _burst_.

It was early in the morning, a couple hours before school would open, and the atmospheric temperature was both ice cold and irritating. It only made San more furious at himself -- at _everything_.

Another choked, miserable breath was inhaled, and his throat felt parched and empty. _You look horrible and you're a fucking mess. That's why Wooyoung left you_. _You don't deserve him._

San's jaw clenched, and his fists clamped together, shaking with seething rage. And then he was gasping, distressed sobs echoing within the bathroom's walls while shards made up of the mirror were now gathered in the sink.

The sharp sound and the image of blood coating his knuckles darkened San's expression with both unmatched pain and disbelief.

" _Fuck_!" San yelled, sinking to his knees. He curled into a ball and hot tears stung his eyes, keeping him from seeing properly. His heart ached so bad, and even the physical pain he'd inflicted on himself couldn't drench out the affliction he felt.

When Seonghwa hurriedly rushed into the bathroom due to the noise, San couldn't hold it in anymore. The tears began to flow freely, soaking through his cousin's shirt when the older male held him close in order to support him.

"You're okay, everything's okay," Seonghwa whispered into his hair, making sure to repeat those two words over and over again so that San would remember them as he tended to forget them so easily. And Seonghwa would keep saying them for as long as he needed to until his cousin would _believe_ him.

Even if that meant forever.

_* * *_

  
"Hey, you okay? You look a bit. _..sick_." Mingi's words were soft and lathered with identifiable worry, but they went through one of San's ears and out the other.

His thoughts were a jumbled, incomprehensible mess. He had _no idea_ what he was even _doing_ at school today, and seeing Wooyoung blatantly avoiding him once again for the first half of the day drowned him deeper and deeper into his sea of despair.

San and Mingi had decided to stay in the cafeteria at lunch today for a change, but then several minutes had passed without any words spoken from the former. It was as if he'd became a zombie, a depressed ragdoll that had lost all its worth and ability to stand up for itself.

He flinched when Mingi's palm gently pressed on his shoulder. Almost immediately, the redhaired teen dropped his hand.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, yet his eyes looked too inquisitive and too curious for their own good.

San shook his head and stared blankly ahead -- which quickly turned out to be a huge mistake.

Because there Wooyoung was in the middle of the cafeteria, his long black hair falling over his pretty features which had been pulled into this expression of mild amusement. His other friends were laughing and play fighting as usual at their table, and while Wooyoung smiled and laughed along, his eyes still held an unmistakable emotion in them. It was obvious that he wasn't really there, and that he longed to be somewhere else -- _with_ someone else.

"...Is it about Wooyoung?" Mingi asked, his voice drawing San out of his innermost thoughts. When they faced each other though, the taller looked apologetic. "Or... maybe we can just talk about something else?"

San sighed, rubbing his fingers together. They were already sore from the multiple times he'd tampered with them throughout the week, but he couldn't help it. He couldn't get rid of his anxiety.

"W-We can talk about it," he eventually muttered, chewing on his lip. His nervousness had grown even more rabid, infesting and ravaging his thoughts. His hands began to shake underneath the table, but he hid them in his pockets.

"Is everything okay between you and Wooyoung?" Mingi questioned, sparing a glance over at Wooyoung's table. The dark haired boy was as oblivious as ever, currently listening in to whatever the guy next to him was saying. San's heart bled with sheer longing, as he wanted so deeply for things to be normal between him and Wooyoung again. "I've noticed you two haven't been talking since like, the start of the week."

San looked away after realizing he'd been staring at Wooyoung for far too long. _Idiot, what would he think if he'd caught you staring? Why are you so hopeless?_

"San? Should I take you to see the nurse? You're kind of worrying me," Mingi said, and instantly San felt guilty. The taller boy had his own shit to deal with, and here San was, inconveniencing him like he did to everyone.

San quickly shook his head. "I'm fine. No need to worry."

"You sure?"

"I-I'm sure." San looked away, detesting the way he kept stuttering.

A minute passed between the friends filled with nothing but chatter from the surrounding students, but soon enough Mingi decided to speak up.

"So...did you both have a fight or?"

San's heart thumped against his ribcage. "No... Not really. But -- but it was _my fault._ "

Mingi's eyebrows rose in confusion. "Your fault?"

"W-We had some sort of stupid disagreement and n-now..." San hesitated, blowing out a tuft of air from his lips. He was frustrated at how everything was turning at this point.

"So you guys had a disagreement, and because of that Wooyoung doesn't wanna talk to you." Mingi paused. "Is that what I'm getting here?"

"It's -- it's not Wooyoung's fault," San rushed to defend the other male. "It was mine. It's _my fault_. Everything's my fault."

"Then you both should talk things out, and apologize if you have to," Mingi replied.

"I -- I _can't_. He doesn't want to talk to me," San explained, clenching his hands into firm fists. "I-In fact, it's _better_ like this. _He's_ better like this."

Mingi looked like he couldn't believe what San was actually saying. "What the hell are you talking about? It's not 'better' in the slightest. Since Tuesday I've been spotting you both walking on eggshells around each other and if it's not that, then it's avoiding each other like you're both the plague even when it's as clear as day that you're both fond of each other. Whatever happened between you two needs to be discussed between you both, because I _really_ hate seeing this."

"I can't do anything," San simply stated, his voice coming out cold and seemingly disinterested -- even when he was _far_ from that. "There isn't anything that can be done. Wooyoung doesn't want to talk to me again, and it's fine."

 _No it's not. It's not and you fucking know it. Stop lying to_ _yourself_. San, at that moment, wanted nothing more than to disappear forever.

"San," Mingi pressed, genuine concern showcased on his expression, "what's going on?"

"Nothing."

San couldn't look the redhaired male in the eyes. He didn't want to see any sort of disappointment coming from his side. San knew he wouldn't be able to take it.

"...Should I talk to Wooyoung for you? Obviously, I have no idea of what went wrong between you guys, but I really hate seeing you two like this. Seriously, it's making me a bit sad."

San froze up. "No, please. Y-You don't need to do that."

He looked up then, and that's when he saw Mingi's face, but the taller wasn't looking in his direction. No, he was looking at Wooyoung who was now on his feet, a soda can casually swinging in his hand. He appeared as nonchalant as ever, but his eyes were narrowed, glaring at _nothing_.

Mingi stood up.

San didn't hesitate to grab his arm, but the taller had been too quick with his footsteps.

 _Shit!_ San internally cursed. He started to freak out. His hands shook whilst he got up, racing past the several tables and out the cafeteria to hurriedly find Mingi and stop him from talking to Wooyoung about the issue.

By the time he made his way into the nearly empty hall, Mingi was already with Wooyoung by the lockers. He seemed to be the more chatty of the two, his mouth emphasizing words which San couldn't hear at all, yet didn't fail to heighten the severity of his nervousness.

Wooyoung, on the other hand, just continued to stare at Mingi, his expression stoic and hard to read. San didn't even know if he was mad or not, and that was the scary thing.

San hated this entire situation. The more words Mingi and Wooyoung exchanged, the more visibly upset the taller became. His voice rose, teethering on agitation and unmasked bewilderment.

Mingi was angry.

San found himself taking a step back. He was back to feeling breathless -- _exhausted_. His chest hurt, each inhale and exhale akin to an army of claws pricking him under his skin and squeezing his heart with unimaginable strength. Suddenly he was cornered again, alone and scared as his previous bullies sneered and bared their teeth at him like venomous snakes, joking about what evils they would commit on him.

And then something warm held San's wrist, and he freaked the fuck out. He immediately yanked his wrist off, the phantom touch feeling like an acid that charred his skin.

" _Don't fucking touch me_." San's words were like the coldest ice, and his tone dripped with long repressed poison, escaping his lips before he could even register who he was even talking to.

Wooyoung stared at him, before taking a step back. And when his and San's gazes met, his eyes reflected clear dejection and _regret_. And San hated that. He wanted to apologize, to speak up and say that he hadn't meant any of it, but his lips stayed shut, and his eyes continued to glare at Wooyoung like he was everything evil in the world.

"I'm sorry," Wooyoung looked _truly_ sorry, his eyes this worrying pool of gloom that San chose to ignore.

But San didn't answer him. Shame, guilt, and humiliation had swallowed him whole, and he felt just as cornered and as overwhelmed as he'd felt all those years ago.

And as a result, he quickly turned around and walked away.


	26. twilight

After all his classes had ended, San made it out of school without any problems. He hadn't sought out to exchange any further words with Wooyoung after that incident at lunch, too stuck inside his detrimental thoughts to interact with anyone around him.

"Hey, um," Mingi began next to San while they walked the gates that led them into the road. His voice bordered on regret. "I'm sorry for butting in earlier."

San shook his head, adjusting the bag straps over his shoulders. "It's fine. Don't worry about it." He had a feeling he probably looked even worse by now. The late afternoon skies were dark and foreboding, and the air was thick with the cold that unattractively paled San's skin and coloured his cheeks and ears an odd pink. And as a result, he looked down, thankful for his longish hair that acted as a protective shield for his face.

"...Are you doing anything at home?" Mingi questioned again. "I feel rather guilty about everything, so I was wondering if you'd like to have dinner at my place."

San stopped, shock numbing his senses for a bit. He spared a glance at Mingi, maybe to figure out if the taller was indeed serious about it, and _yeah_ , his face revealed nothing but honesty. "Uh..."

"If you're worried, well, mom won't mind an extra person to feed since she's like, _super_ enthusiastic about cooking as much food as possible for whoever's present," Mingi explained, a sweet smile growing on his face as he spoke about his mother. "And dad, _well_ , he doesn't mind friends visiting. Don't be fooled about his appearance though, he likes whoever I like. And my sister likes making new friends, so everything will be fine."

With this he stared at San, his quick eyes picking up on how reluctant the shorter still seemed.

"It's okay though...if you don't wanna come. If you're uncomfortable with the idea then I'd be a bad friend for forcing you into it -- "

San shook his head. "I -- I actually won't mind having dinner at your place. Seonghwa -- my cousin, he'll be working late today anyways. So it's fine."

Mingi's grin broadened. "Really?"

San nodded, cracking a smaller smile. "Yeah, really."

"That's good." Mingi held a thumbs up. "You won't regret it, really. I'll call my mom and tell her you're coming over. We can just walk there since I don't live too far anyways."

Although San was kind of looking forward to spending time with Mingi's family, he still couldn't get over how anxious he felt. But he resisted the urge to pick his nails and followed after Mingi, choosing instead to smile and laugh at the taller's hilarious jokes rather than to continue to wallow in his miseries. He decided he'd had enough of that today.

_* * *_

Mingi's family was so nice it was both surreal and absolutely _insane_ , but in a good way. They'd all accommodated him warmly as soon as Mingi had introduced him, and their eagerness to learn more about him was both a nice welcome and _kind_ of overwhelming.

  
"Hey San," Mingi's little sister called Dabin said, following after San while Mr and Mrs Song helped set the table, "you're one of Mingi's other friends, right? You look really different from Yunho though, but maybe that's 'cause I'm so used to seeing him around instead."

"Um," San looked to Mingi for help, but the taller was now glaring at his little sister, an uncharacteristic red coating his cheeks.

"That's because they're different people, _duh,_ " Mingi replied, jokingly pulling at Dabin's long ponytail.

" _Ow_!" Dabin squealed. "My beautiful hair!"

Her words made San's chest squeeze with discomfort. He suddenly remembered Wooyoung's identical words when they'd went to that ice cream shop with Mingi. The mere thought of the black haired male made San's heart race to astronomical lengths. It was quite pathetic.

"Run along to the kitchen and bring the cups, dear," Mingi's mother told Dabin, and as soon as she was done, San saw Mingi shoot her an appreciative stare.

"Hey, no worries," Mrs Song whispered to her son. "Your secret's safe with me."

" _Mom_." Mingi's eyes were wide, his eyes displaying embarrassment that caught San so off-guard that it made him giggle.

"What? I've got _no_ qualms whatsoever with who you choose to bring home, same as your father," Mrs Song continued, setting the side dishes on their designated positions. When San offered to help her and Mr Song though, she promptly shook her head. "Oh god no, dear. You're a guest. Anyway, as I was saying -- I've got no problems with whoever you spend time with unless they're a drug dealer, some other type of criminal, or if you somehow managed to get a girl pregnant."

Mingi's eyes got so wide they reminded San of saucers. "If I knew you and dad were planning to embarrass me in front of San, I would have just come home alone instead."

"We're just kidding, Mingi," Mr Song, who looked like an older, more mature version of Mingi decided to add. Then he smiled innocently at San. "We aren't usually like this though, so feel free to come whenever you like."

At this onslaught of attention, San nervously rubbed the back of his neck and nodded. "Sure, okay."

As he took his seat, Mingi went off to his room since he wanted to change his clothes.

"I can lend you a shirt if you want, so you wouldn't get any food stains on your uniform," Mingi had suggested to him, but San only shook his head. He didn't want to intrude further, and he wasn't a messy eater anyway. In fact, he barely ate a lot as it was.

Dinner commenced after Mingi returned, and honestly, San enjoyed it. Everyone in Mingi's family were nice, and they were _never_ invasive with their questions despite how curious they obviously were about him. And most of all, their lively presence distracted him and helped ease the ache in his heart.

"Dad will drive you home, and I'm coming along 'cause I wanna see you off," Mingi told him after they were all done eating.

"Can I come along?" Dabin asked as she hopped, her eyes pleading.

Mingi's father just shook his head. "No. It's raining heavily outside, and you get sick easily."

Dabin just pouted and ran off, which made San crack an amused smile.

It turned out that Mr Song was right though. Outside was freezing, the drops of rain from the twilight skies descending like icy daggers that sent goosebumps parading the surface of San's arms. The clouds looked extremely heavy that they made the skies appear darker than ever, and San was extremely thankful to Mingi that his family had spare umbrellas in their home at that moment.

Mingi's touch was warm as he guided San into his father's car after taking the initiative to hold the umbrella for the both of them. But his touch was _nothing_ like Wooyoung's, and that was the most painful thing. Only Wooyoung could make San _feel_ when no one else could.

"You guys took the bus to come, right?" Mr Song asked once he begun driving.

"Nah." Mingi looked out the condensed windows. "We walked."

Surprisingly, Mingi's father suddenly looked serious. He casted San a brief, yet cautious glance through the rearview mirror before saying his next words. "I know you like walking, but the weather's been unpredictable since the start of the month. Just...try to take the bus whenever you can."

There was something _there_ that San didn't know about. He could sense it in how Mr Song's question had been poised, and especially with how tensed Mingi's shoulders became.

"Trust me, dad. I _know_ ," was what Mingi chose to reply with, and for a minute, the air was laced with awkwardness. But luckily, that didn't last long as Mingi's father soon cracked a few corny jokes that livened up the atmosphere.

In about fifteen minutes, the car drew closer and closer to San's house. By now, the surrounding area had grown incredibly dark despite the neighbourhood's street lamps.

Mr Song parked as near as he possibly could to San's house, while Mingi passed him the umbrella he had in his hand with a: "Just return it to me whenever. I don't want you getting drenched."

San smiled thankfully at him. Mingi was so caring. "Thanks, Mingi."

After exchanging goodbyes, San walked up to his porch, using the umbrella Mingi had given him to protect himself from the unrelenting rainfall.

But then he saw something that made sent chills racing up his spine. Leaning against his porch was a hooded figure, their hands securely hidden inside their pockets.

But upon closer inspection, San recognized the person to be _Wooyoung_.

He couldn't believe it, but here the other male was, standing in front of his doorsteps, his black hoodie soaked to the brim and sticking to him like a second skin.

San unintentionally dropped his umbrella, which quickly alerted Wooyoung of his presence.

"W-Wooyoung," San found himself stuttering. The nearest street lamp lit up the dark haired boy's face in the best of ways, spilling alluring gold into the dark pool of his eyes. "What -- why are you here?"

Wooyoung, for once, was absolutely speechless. Instead, he stood there, staring at San with doe eyes that reflected off deep longing and shame.

San ran up to him without thinking and casted his school bag to the side, before deciding to pull Wooyoung's hands out of his wet pockets. He ran his fingers over Wooyoung's knuckles, shivering at how cold they felt.

"Your right hand...it's bandaged." Wooyoung's voice was hoarse and raw, almost as if he'd been crying earlier.

San chose not to reply him, unable to think clearly due to his worry and alarm about the other's wellbeing. "H-How long did you stay outside?"

"Can't remember. Came...came here as soon as I could," Wooyoung replied. He kept alternating between staring right at San and glaring at the ground, and it made San's heart ache even more.

"You idiot," San whispered. His voice was harsh, but yet still he kept holding Wooyoung's hands, kept rubbing their palms together to give the younger boy warmth. "Why did you come when you saw how shitty the weather's been since morning?"

Wooyoung just shook his head. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for ignoring you and for being a huge asshole. I'm sorry that I -- that I left." He didn't sound like himself in the slightest, which made it a thousand times more difficult for San to stay mad at him.

"It's my fault," San let out. "Sure, I was mad, but I don't blame you for leaving -- "

Wooyoung's arms suddenly flung around him, holding him close. It startled San, but made his heartbeat twice as erratic.

Wooyoung was cold, colder than San could've imagined, yet the heat -- those _sparks_ that bloomed between them at the contact seized San's heart with immeasurable warmth.

"I-I shouldn't have left," Wooyoung replied, his hands tightly fisting San's shirt. "I _didn't_ want to leave. You must've been hurt. _Shit_ , who am I kidding, you're probably still hurt."

San tried to blink away his tears. He couldn't afford to break down now, not when he had to make sure that Wooyoung was okay. "...I'll bring you inside and get you changed."

"Why don't you just hit me instead." Wooyoung stared into San's eyes, his words cold and his stare laced with an eerie seriousness. "L-Let out your anger on me much as you want, then maybe -- maybe you'd hate me less -- "

San let him go, clear shock seeping into his features. "Wooyoung, what are you talking about? Why would I fucking _hit you_?"

"You're mad at me, aren't you?" Wooyoung continued to ramble, his raspy words twisting San's gut. "I know you are. S-So just hit me. I'm an asshole, so I deserve it."

" _You don't deserve to get hit_!" San exclaimed, finally hitting his breaking point. His voice trembled, holding on to Wooyoung and staring at him like he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Do you even _hear_ what you're saying?"

"But I deserve it."

It was San who hugged him this time, and he held onto him so tight as if Wooyoung would disappear if he didn't. Freezing rain still poured all around them but all San could focus on was holding Wooyoung close to his body. The younger boy trembled, sniffing and holding on for dear life as well, and San's heart broke even more.

"I don't want pity. I just want you to forgive me."

San ran his hand through Wooyoung's hair, repeating the action in order to comfort him. "I already have. And I'm not mad at you anymore. So please, don't ever ask me to _hit you_ ever again."

"And I need to bring you inside, you're freezing," San continued. His breath hitched when Wooyoung just peered at him through observant, dark eyes. His fingers ran down San's cheeks, tracing over his jaw and leaving a trail of heat in its wake. It left San breathless and frozen.

"W-Wooyoung."

Wooyoung tenderly held his face, his palms so cold yet so warm. "I'm sorry... But can I ask you something?"

San quickly nodded. "O-Of course. Anything."

Wooyoung's hands dropped to his shoulders, but his gaze remained on San's face, piercing and vulnerable in a way that was so unlike him.

"This is uh, maybe highly impractical, but," Wooyoung cleared his throat, "...kiss me."

San wasn't sure he heard right. "W-What?"

"You heard me." Wooyoung's hands curled within San's locks, and San gulped, finding it difficult to look the younger male in the eye. "I know... I know you want to do it."

"Woo..." San exhaled, the wild thumping of his heart the only thing he could hear. He wanted to grant the other's wishes, _god_ he wanted to, but he needed to make sure that Wooyoung was okay first and foremost. "Please, let's just head inside..."

Fortunately, Wooyoung listened to him this time. He followed San to his room and sat on the floor as San racked his closet for the most appropriate clothes to wear.

"You can dress here if you want," San said as he passed a grey shirt and sweatpants over to Wooyoung. "I'll leave and give you some privacy."

Wooyoung, once again, said nothing and agreed. And during those silent and tense minutes which Wooyoung took to dress that seemed to take forever to go by, San kept thinking over what the younger boy had told him earlier.

 _Wooyoung asked me to kiss him_ , he thought. He cursed when his heart practically _leapt_ at the thought, repeatedly running his hands through his hair in order to calm his heart down.

"San?" Wooyoung eventually called out, and when San finally went back into his room, he was faced with the sight of Wooyoung laying on his bed in his clothes. He patted the spot beside him. "Come here."

And so San did, but soon after did Wooyoung pull him in by the collar of his school shirt and bring their lips together.

The action was unexpected, drawing out a surprised gasp from San, but the shock didn't last long. Wooyoung's lips were cold and tasted of unsheathed want and desperation, shooting sparks straight to San's core.

Wooyoung's fingers were in his hair, slightly pulling and tugging, forceful yet not at the same time, but San didn't mind it at all. With their heaving chests pressed against each other, mouths moving with complete longing, San could've sworn right there and then that he'd seen stars.

Then Wooyoung pulled away with a low chuckle. He stared up at San with a dazed smile, his thumb lazily rubbing over San's cheekbone. "...Hi."

San couldn't help it. He looked off to the side even when he knew that it wouldn't do anything to hide his face. His neck burned. "Hi."

Wooyoung pulled himself into a sitting position, and then shifted closer into San's space until their noses touched. "I can't lie," he drawled, his voice husky and breathless, "I've thought about how those pretty lips of yours would feel on mine a few times... But I'd been too scared to _try_ anything.

"But now..." he ran a hand down San's arm, and the older male shivered, "I want to do it again and again..."

And so San took the initiative and pressed their lips together once more, and just as easily Wooyoung melted into his touch, his lips addictive and undeniably soft. His heart was beating just as crazily as San's was at that moment.

And that was how San knew this moment was real. In this moment of vulnerability and the fresh wave of feelings that could finally sprout, San wanted nothing more than to be one hundred percent honest with the boy he was falling deeper and deeper for. Because Wooyoung deserved nothing less than that.

"I have feelings for you," San whispered between kisses. "And it's so surreal yet so fucking amazing, and I just -- I still can't believe I'm actually spending this moment with you."

Wooyoung brought San's hand to his lips and kissed it, the mere action sending a million butterflies somersaulting in San's stomach. "I'm not going anywhere. Not anymore."


	27. happy pill

For a couple of minutes on San's bed, it was just them, peaceful silence and their thumping hearts. Wooyoung had his arms around San, chest pressed against the older's back and his chin nestled in the slope of his neck. It seemed like he wasn't planning on letting go anytime soon.

And to San, this moment was nothing short of _surreal_. He couldn't help but close his eyes, basking in the warmth that surrounded them and Wooyoung's tight and secure hold, while the younger male began playing with his fingers, his even breathing sending pleasant shivers down San's spine.

It was safe to say that San didn't want this to end. He pushed himself to remember everything about this memory, locking it away in the deepest, safest corner of his mind so he wouldn't ever forget it. And he'd replay it again and again whenever he felt down or wasn't feeling the best -- it'd be the one thing that'd keep him afloat and happy.

Then, Wooyoung's stomach unexpectedly grumbled, which promptly pulled San out of his dazed reverie. He opened his eyes and then tried to turn around, but was quickly and firmly held in place by Wooyoung.

"Don't move," the latter mumbled, planting a kiss on San's jaw that made his toes curl, "wanna stay here with you for a little while longer."

San wanted that too, but the fact that Wooyoung was probably hungry didn't sit well with him at all. "Woo... when last did you eat something?"

Wooyoung loosened his grip, but he kept playing with San's hands, slowly caressing his knuckles and making the older male feel like an overall mess. "Can't remember. Maybe...this morning?"

San shook his hair, making it fall into his eyes as a subtle way to hide his blush. "Hey, let's head to the kitchen. I'll make something for you."

With that, he turned himself around, only to be met with Wooyoung's eyebrows lightly furrowing and his overall facial expression darkened.

San's smile gradually faded. His overthinking nature started wondering if he'd done something to piss the dark haired male off. "Did -- did I do something?"

Wooyoung sighed and ran an agitated hand through his black hair. "You're too nice to me."

San blinked, trying to process the younger's words. They'd shot right through and managed to hit someplace close to home, but he forced himself to remain neutral, fearing that he'd upset Wooyoung further if he showed he'd gotten affected by his words.

But then, Wooyoung looked up, his round brown eyes peering into San's. He then quickly shook his head. "I don't mean it in like, a rude way or anything. It's just -- you're so... _caring_ , especially when it comes to fuck up like me. It kinda takes me aback at times."

"You're not a fuck up," San didn't waste time in adding. He couldn't help the way his tone got all defensive. "Don't say stuff like that about yourself."

Wooyoung just shrugged, gaze downwards, and for some reason, that aggravated San even more. "It's nothing to be mad about though."

San then suddenly leaned in and grabbed Wooyoung's face, forcing the younger boy to look at him. White hot anger gripped him, but it wasn't directed at Wooyoung, no -- it was directed at those little pessimistic words which couldn't be more _false_ , because they'd struck a cord within San's heart, and he hated that. Hated the fact that a phenomenal boy like Wooyoung could think such a way about himself.

"Don't _ever_ talk about yourself like that again, you hear me?" San sternly commanded a stupified and wide-eyed Wooyoung. "You're not a fuck up. I happen to think you're amazing, and I wanna stay with you for however long you'd let me." San let his hands cup and stroke Wooyoung's face, maintaining their electrifying eye contact. "...And I want to embrace all of you, including your flaws. I want to be the person you find comfort in, and I want to take care of you too."

San shortened the space between them and pecked Wooyoung straight on the lips, his hands still holding the younger's face in place. "So let me _fucking_ take care of you, Jung Wooyoung, because you're a breathtaking human being, and you deserve to be treated as such."

Wooyoung was like an ice sculpture underneath his fingertips -- frozen and unmoving. His eyes were closed, long lashes shadowing his cheeks as a healthy red pigment blossomed on his face. He gulped, unconsciously shifting closer to San's bewilderment.

"Shit," Wooyoung then whispered.

"...What?"

"That was hot."

Now it was San's turn to freeze, his lips parting a little, but he quickly regained himself by clearing his throat. "Huh. _Really_?"

Wooyoung opened his eyes and nodded, stuttering out his next words with that stunning blush still colouring his cheeks. "Yeah. Didn't know you could grab my face like that. And -- and the way you _looked_ at me," he smiled coyly at the older male, "it made me feel all warm inside."

San bit his lip, immensely embarrassed. "Oh. Um -- okay."

Wooyoung's smile transformed into a smirk, before he decided to crawl his way over to San and settle himself on his lap. Almost instantly, San's face lit on fire, his eyes looking everywhere _but_ at Wooyoung.

"We should totally kiss again," Wooyoung spoke. The grey shirt he had on was doing him wonders, contrasting beautifully with the smooth, exposed skin of his tanned neck and the dip of his collarbones.

San's tongue went dry, he _seriously_ couldn't look away. He really wanted to do as the younger asked and fulfill whatever he wished for, but the voice at the back of his head nagged at him that Wooyoung currently needed some food in his system.

"You need to eat," San replied, chuckling when Wooyoung just sulked like a little kid. He then proceeded to pat the younger's head, giggling when Wooyoung's face displayed confusion. "I'll let you kiss me whenever, _however_ you want after that. At least, before Seonghwa hyung comes home. Deal?"

Wooyoung's smile looked smug. "Deal."

_* * *_

Despite how chaotic the day had begun, both San's and Wooyoung's emotions at an all-time high like a violent tidal wave destroying everything in its way, things had considerably calmed down by now, the two boys enjoying a serene night with each other without much problems.

San had opted to prepare a simple meal that consisted of spaghetti and sauce since he didn't have much options he could choose from, and while he busied himself with the task of making edible food for Wooyoung, the latter decided to sit on the counter, kicking his legs back and forth like a huge cutie.

San liked this. He liked the way Wooyoung's curious and attentive eyes followed him around, liked when the younger would 'accidentally' let their arms or palms brush whenever he was close to where he sat, and he especially loved the way Wooyoung would stare at him from time to time -- like he was the _loveliest_ person he'd ever laid his eyes upon.

When the spaghetti became ready, San turned off the stove only for a pair of arms to wrap around him from behind. In an instant, San found himself giggling a little bit, euphoria spreading throughout his veins. 

"Wooyoung, why don't you wait until I serve you some food first?" San asked the other. Honestly, he had no idea how he managed to keep his voice so calm especially when his heart was currently performing huge backflips inside his chest.

  
Wooyoung just let his lips linger on San's neck, before leaving small kisses on his skin. It made San turn around, but then his back was being pressed against the edge of the counter, Wooyoung's mouth hungrily moving with his.

And hell, San didn't think he'd ever get enough of this, of Wooyoung's soft, plump lips, of his body heat and of his touches that left San craving for more.

San pulled back for a second, forehead pressed against Wooyoung's and their breaths intermingling, and then gently placed his hands over the younger's shoulders.

"You need to eat."

Wooyoung pouted. "M'not hungry."

At that point, his stomach chose to grumble again, and San flashed a bright grin.

"Looks like your tummy's saying another thing altogether," he said. "Let's listen to it and make it happy, okay?"

Wooyoung rolled his eyes, but his lips twitched with an upcoming smile. "Fuck, you're so _lame_."

San laughed, bravely leaning in to softly kiss the younger on the nose. "I can't deny that."

"Serve me, then. I'm still your master, after all."

"Sure."

San was _happy_ , and although he was very aware of the fact that things like happiness didn't tend to last long for people like him, he still chose to focus on the present and not let the possible future bother him. At that moment, he was content, satisfied that he had Wooyoung by his side. And he wasn't going to let anything ruin that for him, not now.

_* * *_

San, upon Wooyoung's request, placed the food on the table as well as a cold glass of juice that he knew Seonghwa wouldn't mind sharing with Wooyoung. As all this was going on, Wooyoung had already sat himself down, his chin resting on his folded arms as he watched San with an unrelenting smile on his face.

San soon noticed his stare, and then sat down and looked away, his face burning. "W-What're you looking at?"

"You," was Wooyoung's smug answer, and when their eyes met once more, he winked.

San cleared his throat and pointed the fork beside the plate at Wooyoung. "Take. You need to eat before the food gets cold."

Wooyoung licked his upper lip, a playful, devilish look in his eyes. "...Then why don't you feed me?"

San gulped and then chewed on his lip, realizing how dry they felt. Suddenly, the room felt stuffy and constrained, this odd tension stifling the air. "Wooyoung...are you okay?"

At this, Wooyoung stopped sipping his drink and blinked. "What do you mean?"

"You sound..." San rubbed his hands together, staring hard at the table that separated them, "weirdly _sexual_."

  
At this, Wooyoung almost spit out his drink. Loud, rambunctious laughter escaped his mouth at that moment, and his eyes crinkled with barely hidden amusement. He looked like he'd just heard the funniest joke in the entire universe.

"Why'd you ask?" He began, smirking at San who looked shyer than ever. "You want to sleep with me?"

San's _entire_ neck pulsed with heat. " _What_?"

"You know, like _fucking_ , _having sex_ \-- "

" _Okay let's just eat the food_ ," San quickly added before Wooyoung could say any more. God, his whole face was burning, and it wasn't fun. The younger's words flustered him and definitely put thoughts in his head that he did _not_ want to think about right now.

Wooyoung (luckily) nodded, which made San relieved. "Okay, I'll eat just because you asked me _oh_ _so nicely_." He took a bite out of the spaghetti. "It's kinda cold now, but it's totally my fault, don't worry. Plus, it's not bad."

"I'm glad." San bit his lip, only to stiffen when Wooyoung reached out to ruffle his hair. His warm palm tingled San's skin, and butterflies scattered inside his stomach. He didn't know why Wooyoung was being so clingy with him tonight, but that didn't mean he didn't appreciate the attention.

"Say, when does your cousin come home again?" Wooyoung asked San a few minutes in as he ate.

San rubbed his neck, cringing at how hot the area still felt. "On Fridays he always arrives later. I like staying awake until then too, so he won't feel alone. I make sure I ask him about his day as well, he appreciates that."

Wooyoung's eyes clouded over with understanding. He sighed, the corner of his lips quirking upwards. "You're a good kid, San."

"We're like, the same age," San argued, but he was blushing.

"Shh," the younger replied. He fiddled with the fork in his hand, deep in thought. "...Seonghwa really did a great job raising you until now. I know you may not think that way, but you're seriously the nicest, _sweetest_ person I've ever met, so yeah. He's doing a good job."

The atmosphere between both boys grew increasingly somber, San replaying Wooyoung's words in his head over and over. And each time he did, they became more and more _heartfelt_.

"Hey," Wooyoung poked his arm. His face mirrored amusement, but his voice sounded uncharacteristically worried. "Don't get all soft on me now."

"I -- I'm not." San inhaled a heavy breath, trying to wipe his eyes without looking _too_ obvious. But, it didn't appear to work because Wooyoung was next to him in less than a second, his arm slung around his shoulder.

"Crap, I must've said something embarrassing, didn't I?" Wooyoung uttered, while San just sniffed and continued to wipe his eyes, determined not to meet the younger's stare.

"You didn't say anything bad," San replied. His voice sounded all raspy and like an overall mess. "I'm just being stupid."

"You're not stupid." Wooyoung stared at him, which only made San keep his gaze settled on the floor.

Wooyoung tenderly ran his hand through San's locks, quickly noticing how the older turned his head away. "Hey, don't look away..."

San kept his head down. "I probably look terrible."

"You're beautiful."

San looked up then, his dumb heart racing due to those simple words that turned out to affect him so profoundly. "I am?"

Wooyoung poked his cheek. "Mhm. And I'm telling the truth since I'm quite hot as well."

San quietly chuckling, unaware of the lone tear that slid down his eye. "Wow."

So maybe that's why his breath hitched when Wooyoung's thumb brushed over his cheek, his heart running a marathon.

"I still apologize for all the pain I've probably caused you, but everyone already knows I'm quite an ass. But _you_ on the other hand, you're a good person with the kindest soul that even _I_ can see, no matter what you think or say about yourself. And none of this is your fault," Wooyoung said. "You're doing your best, and that's all that matters."

"You too," San muttered, tucking some of Wooyoung's hair behind his ear. He still couldn't believe that all _this_ was happening, couldn't believe that this moment was real. The boy he so desperately adored was right there, comforting him with his words and gazing at him with such fondness.

"You're also doing a great job," San finished.

Wooyoung laughed. " _Sure_."

"I mean it."

"My parents and most teachers don't exactly think the same."

"Well _I_ do," San replied.

Wooyoung ran a finger over the curve of San's pouty lips. "That's 'cause you're into me."

"That, and I can genuinely see that you're improving -- " San promptly paused, and that was because Wooyoung was now stroking his bottom lip, slightly parting it. "That you're improving yourself," he finally added.

"Nah, I don't believe it."

Then San did what he thought he could _never_ do in his lifetime. He let Wooyoung's finger enter his mouth, his tongue smoothly running over it.

Almost immediately, Wooyoung recoiled and rose to his feet, panic flooding his features. " _Woah_ , okay. Um -- I'm taking those dishes over to the sink."

San watched as the younger raced into the kitchen with his empty plate and utensils, unable to hide his wide grin. "You okay there, Woo?"

" _Yep. Perfectly fine_ ," Wooyoung called out from the kitchen.

San broke out into barely contained laughter to the bemusement of the younger male.

Wooyoung really made him happy.

_* * *_

  
Wooyoung didn't stay the night, mostly because his parents believed he was at Yunho's house, and according to him they wouldn't hesitate to call the blue haired male any time from now to know if their son had been telling them the truth.

"That sucks," San found himself saying.

"Yep. But my parents won't be able to handle seeing me with another guy when they already think I'm fucking my friends behind their backs -- " Wooyoung cleared his throat, realizing who he was talking to, "I mean, _seeing_ them behind their backs."

San, in the meantime, was both blushing and embarrassed yet again. "I guess I'll see you around, then."

Wooyoung patted his hip, displaying a genuinely sweet smile. "See you. And I _promise_ I'll return your clothes back to you later, despite how comfy they are."

"You can keep them."

"Yeah, but I kinda want to preserve your scent, and _yes_ , I'm not ashamed to admit that," Wooyoung answered.

God, Wooyoung would be the absolute death of him.


	28. talk with me

Yunho opened his eyes early that Saturday morning, and almost immediately he wanted to shut them again and lie below his covers for the rest of the day. It wasn't like he was tired or wanted to sleep, but usually waking up to silence and a creeping sense of loneliness tended to mess with one's mind sooner or later.

Of course, Yunho had plenty of friends to choose from and spend time with, but none of them -- except for Wooyoung -- were particularly close with him, and Yunho wasn't one to share personal thoughts with other people. He absolutely _despised_ feeling open and vulnerable with someone.

He turned to his side and stare at the grey walls of his room. The area, just like the rest of his humanely void house, was minimalistic in the sense that it had no personality and looked dreadfully dull because that was the way his mother preferred it.

And Yunho never bothered reinventing his room either. It was no use -- the emptiness and desolation would've stayed the same anyways.

He groaned, biting his lip. Slowly, thoughts of a certain redhaired male swarmed his head and he found himself wondering what Mingi was currently doing.

 _Probably sleeping, creepy_ , his inner voice chastised him. Yunho, however, pulled his long legs into a sitting position and grabbed the phone next to his bed. _No. Don't do it. Don't you dare text him Yunho --_

**\- yunho**   
_uhhh, hi|_

Yunho rapidly proceeded to backspace his message before he accidentally sent it, and then blew a frustrated sigh out of his lips. Though his and Mingi's friendship was still considered new, both teens had gone out of their way to spend quite some time together lately, whether it be casual walks together after school, or that one time earlier that week that he'd actually met the shorter's lovely, homely family.

It was safe to say that Yunho was missing those moments. He really wanted to hang out with Mingi again.

He tried typing another text, his nerves ablaze and his heartbeat racing like he'd just ran a marathon or something along those lines. He _always_ found himself like this around Mingi, and it was kind of embarrassing.

But suddenly the door to his room slammed open, a new person rushing into his room like someone was chasing after them. It totally made Yunho freak the fuck out, causing him to send the text before he could check it due to his highly startled state.

Plus, he freaking ended up _hitting_ the back of his head on the wall, sharp sparks of pain pulsing from the affected area.

"Ow -- _fuck_ ," he cursed, glaring really hard at a scantily clad Wooyoung who had a half apologetic, half entertained look on his face.

"Oops!" Wooyoung exclaimed with a chuckle that just elevated Yunho's irritation. "My bad."

"I regret helping you out. Should've just left you in the rain or better, sent you back to your parents'," Yunho huffed, before glancing at his phone's screen.

**\- yunho**   
_good morning, mingi_   
_wanna do_

His jaw clenched as his eyebrows furrowed even deeper. " _Fuck, Woo._ I really, _really_ hate you right now."

" _That's_ harsh." Wooyoung just crossed his arms over his bare chest, his expression still far too lightheaded for the peak _devastation_ he'd just wrecked on Yunho.

"And why the fuck are you in my room anyway?" Yunho replied. He couldn't help it, he was pissed at his friend for making him accidentally send Mingi a text that wasn't even completed. The humiliation was too much.

"Can't find anything to eat in the kitchen. Hey -- " Wooyoung drew closer, and then abruptly tried to grab Yunho's phone from his grip. The taller male was quicker though, hiding the device before Wooyoung could see who the contact was. "Yikes, sending a nude photo of yourself?"

Yunho threw a pillow at Wooyoung, which the shorter narrowly missed. "Get out, and put on a shirt for Christ's sake. Those ribs are fucking burning my eye sockets."

" _Hey_!" Wooyoung exclaimed, his tone bordering on offended. "I've got sweet abs and you know it!"

"Just get out."

"I'm craving for some cereal though."

Yunho sent yet another pillow to Wooyoung, which made the dark haired male finally leave his room. After this, Yunho sighed and pulled out his phone again. To make things worse, Mingi had now _seen_ his message before he could even attempt deleting it.

_\- mingi 🌹 is typing..._

**-** **mingi** **🌹**  
 _??_  
 _wanna do what?_

**\- mingi 🌹**   
_and good morning too, yunho_

Yunho tightly shut his eyes, trying to figure out a suitable response to Mingi's question that wouldn't make things a lot more awkward between them.

**\- yunho**   
_well_   
_it was a typo_   
_i mean, a mistake_

**\- yunho**   
_accidentally sent the message_   
_before finishing it, sorry_

**\- mingi 🌹**   
_no need to apologize._   
_though i must admit, it's_   
_kinda funny_

**\- yunho**   
_no its not_

**\- mingi 🌹**   
_it is 😂_

**\- yunho**   
_this is highkey embarrassing_

**\- mingi 🌹**   
_nah, its cute_

"I just found a box of frosted flakes in the cupboards and I kinda already opened it to eat, just letting ya know!" Wooyoung suddenly shouted from outside, _almost_ making Yunho drop his phone.

Shit, Wooyoung was so _loud_ , it made the blue haired male briefly wonder how on Earth a boisterous guy like him could actually tolerate someone as quiet and as softspoken as San.

**\- mingi 🌹**   
_hey, do you wanna hang out with me today?_   
_that is, if you have the time_

**\- yunho**  
 _thats_ _crazy_  
 _i was kinda planning on asking you the same thing_

**\- mingi 🌹**   
_guess we share the same mind then lmao_   
_so,, are you coming?_

Yunho immediately straightened up his posture, this dorky kind of smile growing on his face. He rarely ever smiled like that, ever.

**\- yunho**   
_yeah_   
_i mean, whenever u want i'm down_

**\- mingi 🌹**   
_is around 12 good??_

**\- yunho**   
_mhm_   
_yep_   
_its god_

**\- yunho**  
 _*good_  
 _aHk i'm a total_ _cringefest_ _,_  
 _i apologize_

**\- mingi 🌹**   
_its fine tho lmaoo_   
_i like it :)_

"And I like _you_ ," Yunho whispered. "A lot."

A part of him wanted to try something out, a dumb flirting trick he'd done with a couple girls in his earlier years as a method to keep up the façade that he was into the opposite sex. He had no idea if it would work on Mingi -- the guy he _actually_ liked romantically -- but it never hurt to shoot a shot, right?

**\- yunho**   
_i don't believe you_   
_but i would if you'd do something for me_

**\- mingi 🌹**   
_what?_

**\- yunho**   
_send me a pic of yourself_   
_i'll believe you then_

Yunho really couldn't believe he'd actually sent that to Mingi. He became filled with instant regret, because what had he been _thinking_?

And to make matters worse, Mingi was now taking some time to reply to him.

**\- yunho**   
_its ok though,_   
_if you don't want to_   
_i was just making a joke_

**\- mingi 🌹**   
_relax yunho_

**\- mingi 🌹**   
_i'm looking through my gallery for a good pic_

**\- mingi 🌹**

[image attached]

[image attached]

[image attached]

**\- mingi 🌹**   
_they may kinda suck_   
_but hopefully they got the message across 😅_

Yunho was now at loss for words. He'd only asked Mingi for one picture of himself, but the shorter had sent him _three_. The implication of his actions was loud and clear. Yunho felt himself blushing, to his dismay.

Mingi looked _breathtaking_.

**\- yunho**   
_you're handsome_   
_very handsome_

**\- mingi 🌹**  
 _i won't believe that until you send me a pic of_ _urself_ _too 😉_

**\- yunho**   
_i never take selfies though_

**\- mingi** **🌹**  
 _its okay_  
 _any picture of you would do_

**\- yunho**

[image attached]

  
**\- mingi** 🌹  
 _wow_

**\- yunho**   
_wooyoung took this pic cause he said i should smile more often._   
_i kept it just because_

**\- mingi 🌹**   
_he's right though_   
_you have an amazing smile_

**\- yunho**   
_thanks, i guess_   
_you too_

**\- mingi 🌹**   
_you're super cute_   
_like seriously_

**\- yunho**  
 _ughh_ _you're making me smile too damn much_

 **\- mingi 🌹**  
 _i'll consider that a good thing, cutie_ _;)_

Now Yunho looked exactly like he did in that picture, grinning and his face flushed.

_* * *_

  
"Cute shirt," Yunho sarcastically muttered once he entered the livingroom where Wooyoung was at. "Where'd you get it?"

"San," Wooyoung casually replied, eating a spoonful of cereal with a content hum. It got a raised eyebrow out of Yunho, because very rarely did Wooyoung look so... _happy_.

"What?" Wooyoung peered up at Yunho from where he sat, and chuckled. "Do I have something on my face or what?"

Yunho grabbed a bowl and spoon and dumped some cereal into it. "No. You just..."

"Just what?"

"You...have this _glow_ to you," Yunho found himself admitting to Wooyoung, "like you're actually enjoying life now."

Wooyoung raised his brows, but he still had on a small smile. "Really? Huh, I guess I do."

Yunho shrugged. "Yeah. And you've got this dazed look in your eyes too. Either you're high, or you and that San dude had some heated makeout session yesterday night, because you looked _nothing_ like this yesterday morning."

Wooyoung just continued eating his cereal, grinning and humming that same tune to himself. Usually, he would've defended himself against the taller's assumptions, but now he was just...silent and content. It freaked Yunho out, but he decided not to comment further on it. He had a 'date' with Mingi in a few hours, after all.

_* * *_

  
When Yunho arrived at Mingi's house that afternoon and pressed on the doorbell, the redhaired male slowly opened the door, peeking his head through the opening like a cautious kitten.

"Mingi?" Yunho asked, a bit worried. "What's wrong?"

Mingi sighed. A pair of thinly framed glasses were perched on his nose, his reddish hair in adorable curls. "Actually...you kind of came a bit earlier than expected..."

Yunho immediately felt guilty. " _Oh_ \-- I'm sorry -- "

Mingi shook his head, before opening the door even wider. "No, it's fine. Don't mind my dressing -- Just pay attention to my face, okay?"

Yunho paused, his heart vibrating wildly in his chest. "What?"

The shorter interlocked their hands, warmth immediately sprouted between them.

"It's nothing. Just come in, I'll get you something quick and we can watch a movie or something."

Yunho nodded, his palm feeling strangely empty when Mingi stopped holding it to get some snacks from the kitchen. But as he made his way over there, Yunho slowly figured out why Mingi was so adamant on him not focusing on his clothes so much.

Mingi had on long sweatpants, but even with them, Yunho could spot his prosthetic foot, as well as his real one, peeking out at the seams of the loose fabric.

And he couldn't help it. He continued to watch -- not because he was weirded out, or because it was strange or anything along those lines -- but because he genuinely _cared_ , because he wondered how hard and how _isolating_ it must've felt for Mingi to go through so much at such a young age.

By then, Mingi had already turned around with a tray of chips and other bags of snacks on it, their gazes meeting.

"Uhm." Yunho cleared his throat, looking away. "I'm sorry for looking -- "

Mingi placed the wide tray on the table in front of the couch, his face deep in thought. "It's okay... I mean, I _am_ an amputee after all. It's probably weird, I get it."

"It's not weird," Yunho disagreed, shaking his head.

Mingi smiled, but it held a bit of pain that reflected in his eyes as well. "I honestly wouldn't have been barefeet right now if attaching my prosthesis wasn't so particularly difficult to do earlier..."

"You can...take it off if it makes you uncomfortable," Yunho said, causing Mingi to stare at him, "I won't mind. I mean, you're at home, right? You kinda _have_ to be comfortable." With this, he let out a chuckle to try and lighten the atmosphere, while Mingi's face remained stoic.

"Gosh..." Mingi took a few steps closer to the taller boy, taking note of how Yunho instantly gulped due to their close proximity. "I used to think you were a jerk... But now you're just unbelievable."

Yunho ran his eyes over the shorter's face, taking in his soft red hair, his pretty shaped lips and his sculpted jawline. Mingi was simply gorgeous, so much so that whenever he looked at the shorter boy, he felt like he was in Mrs Ji's math class of last year all over again, sneaking glances at the brown haired boy at the back of the class because he'd never seen anyone more _beautiful_.

"I don't understand," Yunho breathed out, unable to speak properly.

"You're a nice guy," Mingi answered, gently smiling at the blue haired boy. "I can tell you're being sincere, and I appreciate that sincerity very much. ...But I can't... I can't do it. Not with someone like you, at least not now. It's kind of embarrassing, not gonna lie, and I don't want you seeing my incomplete leg."

Mingi's smile had grown a lot more subdued now, but his eyes shined with this new emotion. He moved in and pressed a delicate kiss on Yunho's flushed cheek, before whispering: "Thank you, for a lot of things... especially for being here right now, with me."

He leaned back to stare at the taller male, and Yunho _had_ to look away since he was blushing madly.

"You like me that much, huh?"

Yunho cleared his throat. "I dunno, maybe?"

Mingi laughed, nudging the taller's arm. "...I'll believe you if you do something for me."

With that, Yunho looked up to see Mingi staring so deeply into his eyes. And he didn't have to say anything, because Yunho _knew_ \-- _they both did_.

And so, Yunho sealed the space between them with a kiss, holding Mingi's face like he was the most ethereal, the most fragile piece of art that he wouldn't dare taint. And god, Mingi's lips were softer than he'd imagined, tasting of the sweetest longing and an opened Pandora's box of newly-acquired feelings and sensations.

The kiss itself was oddly innocent, but Yunho liked it. There was _no way_ he'd ever forget this moment.


	29. you're the sparkle in my eyes

_Recent search results_ _:_   
_\- how to take care of someone you really like_   
_\- fun date ideas_   
_\- when you like someone_   
_\- how to stop feeling unsure_   
_\- how do you know if you like someone more than you'd thought?_

Today was one of the few, rare moments where Wooyoung chose to spend some time at home on the weekend -- and it was mostly because his parents weren't home, as well as the fact that he was feeling a bit...overwhelmed.

But it wasn't in the negative sense, not really. After Yunho had gone out to meet with Mingi earlier (his excitement was so obvious Wooyoung didn't even need to ask him where he was going), the dark haired male had begun to overthink, making his way to his house in order to sort his head out.

The place was empty, the air light and rather easy to digest, and Wooyoung was okay with that. His family wasn't around to stifle up the area and drench the atmosphere with their poisonous, toxic scents, so it was all good.

He was sat on his bed in his large and unnecessarily spacious waste of a room, swallowed by thick, fluffy blankets with a laptop perched on his crossed lap, his tongue slightly sticking out in concentration. And that was the strange part; he rarely ever paid much attention to stuff nor was he interested enough in something to keep himself highly focused, yet here he was, running to the Internet -- _of all places_ \-- in order to seek some advice, all because of one singular being.

A boy who held so much sorrow in his eyes, yet made Wooyoung smile. A boy whose thoughts and actions reflected off such _pain_ and anguish yet still went out of his way to soothe Wooyoung's internal wounds.

Choi San was the complete opposite of Wooyoung, but throughout the time they'd spent together, they'd discovered that they needed each other in more ways than one. They were each other's juxtaposition, hurting and healing each other simultaneously, but it was a tedious cycle that Wooyoung just couldn't get enough of, no matter how much he tried to pretend it didn't affect him.

And Wooyoung was well aware of his shortcomings, of the several ways and of the several things he'd done that would've undoubtedly broken San's heart. And while the concept of guilt was usually something far too diverse to comprehend or try to understand, Wooyoung's entire mind became overflowed with it.

San had told him he'd forgiven him, but Wooyoung had a feeling that the older boy still thought about his bruising, thoughtless words from time to time. And it made things far worse, because Wooyoung knew of San's already plummeted self-confidence.

He knew San didn't love himself.

Wooyoung didn't know how he knew, because ever since he was a kid it'd been hard to relate to others and empathize with them because of the condition he had, but whenever he looked into San's eyes -- he just seemed to _figure out_ everything, and it was both an exhilarating and dreadful feeling.

So, Wooyoung continued cruising through websites, determined to make San to see himself as how _he_ saw him -- a beautiful boy with a kind heart.

As he opened up a new tab, his fisted his palms and then stretched them, fatigue starting to outweigh his thirst of curiosity. By now, he had an idea of how he wanted to spend the day tomorrow with San, but his fingers still itched for him to type something he couldn't quite decipher.

But then he started typing and pressed 'go' before he could think twice or change his mind.

_\- when someone bleeds profusely and then passes out_ _, causing them to die_

Wooyoung stared at the results with a blank expression, but internally he was cursing and shouting at himself. _What the hell are you doing?_

San had already clearly informed him that what he had was not normal, so a simple Google search wouldn't have done anything. Plus, searching about that stuff kind of felt like an invasion of San's privacy, strangely.

In another situation and with another person, Wooyoung wouldn't give two shits about how the person felt, no matter how much of an asshole that made him seem.

But San... San was _different_. And Wooyoung wanted to respect his wishes.

 _But don't you want to help him?_ A small voice in Wooyoung's head edged him on. _You want to help San, right? You like him a lot, so that's only the normal thing to do_.

Wooyoung chewed on his lip. He remembered those few, yet lovely moments where San _really_ smiled and looked happy -- of course he remembered them. He'd already engraved those moments into his mind because they were sacred memories that he treasured deeply, and ones he'd continue to treasure for however long he could.

Because San had now carved out a special space for himself in Wooyoung's heart -- or maybe he already had the second the younger had walked up to him that fateful day and asked if his name was Choi San. Wooyoung still remembered the precise look on San's face, that deep look of misery he always seemed to carry around, as well as this innocence and naivety that had charmed Wooyoung more than he'd like to admit.

Before that moment at lunch, they'd never talked or even interacted before. But Wooyoung had seen him around school, barely eating at lunch. At first, Wooyoung kept wondering how someone could be so set on being alone and by themselves, but then he became curious about the older, striving for a inconspicuous, reasonable way to strike up a conversation with him. Yunho had simply been the catalyst, and now Wooyoung's and San's lives were now entwined in the best of ways.

Wooyoung could only hope he wouldn't fuck things up again.

He sighed, running his finger over his laptop's keyboard, contemplating if he should keep searching. _Don't do it, Wooyoung. San wouldn't like it_.

Wooyoung decided to listen, even when it was extremely hard to keep his curiosity at bay.

But, as he was about to close down the tab and continue to plan the events he wanted to take place tomorrow, a link to a site caught his eye at the far bottom part of the screen.

_convergence_ _of the body, mind and soul_   
_\- the crucial bond_ _**bleeding** _ _has with life and death_

Honestly, the website looked like one of those astrology-themed/fantastical ones that Wooyoung tended to actively avoid, mostly because he rarely believed in things that he couldn't see with his own eyes, but something in that site called out to him, and before he knew what he was doing, he clicked on the link, the page loading up within seconds.

It looked rather plain, and it had the dullest purple theme Wooyoung had ever laid his eyes upon. Despite its lack of creativity, it had heaps and heaps of links and topics, all pertaining to bleeding, living and dying. Safe to say, it was a bit much for Wooyoung, who just wanted a quick answer and get things over with, but then he remembered San.

 _I'm doing this for him. Maybe this bleeding fiasco has a solution after all_ , Wooyoung thought to himself. He felt like he was doing a good thing. He was only trying to help out, after all.

So Wooyoung started to scroll...and scroll... _and scroll_. And fuck, it was beginning to get tiring. There were a bunch of subjects that seemed interesting enough, only for the dark haired teen to click on them and become faced with frighteningly _boring_ information.

Wooyoung fought a yawn, and then continued to casually scroll once more, his eyes flitting past paragraph after paragraph.

_-_ _ signs the bond between your body and your soul is unbalanced and has been tampered with _

Wooyoung stopped scrolling and glared at these words. "You better not be a fucking waste of time like the others," he grumbled, before clicking down on it, not expecting much from this search.

And yes, he _definitely_ shouldn't have expected much. The new page was filled with useless, tasteless information yet again.

Wooyoung frustratedly scrolled down, a nanosecond away from just closing all the tabs and shutting his laptop down, but then his eyes fell on the bunch of sentences gathered at the lower end of the page in a list of sorts.

He read through them, and with each word, his pulse elevated. A queasily alarming and heavy feeling settled at the base of his stomach, because he _may_ have just found what he'd been looking for all this while.

\- _uncontrolled_ _blood loss_  
\- _mental pain and nightmares_  
 _\- frequent blackouts, especially when blood loss is the cause_  
\- _in rare and extreme cases, the person's soul might shut down after a blackout, giving the appearance of_ ** _death_**  
\- _in an even rarer case, the soul fully renews itself after a black out, but this is highly unlikely. click_ _ **here**_ _to learn more_.

Of course, Wooyoung hurriedly clicked the link (just _how_ many links did this one site _have_ ), and another new page opened. But luckily, the first paragraph was straight-to-the-point and precise, so Wooyoung wouldn't have to scroll yet again.

"...in extremely rare cases like these..." Wooyoung whispered as he read through the page, "...blood loss causes soul renewal...empty body searches for a new soul from any other supplier...death for the supplier involved..." the boy gradually slowed down, his breathing becoming more laboured. "Very... very dangerous and can occur anywhere due to the 'give and take' rule of nature..."

 _there is_ _ **no immediate cure**_ ... _the cycle of life has to repeat itself..._

At that point, Wooyoung didn't feel like reading anymore. His heart was racing with fear and apprehension -- those same emotions he'd experienced after San had exposed what had really been going on with him that Tuesday afternoon.

But unlike that time, he wasn't scared because of what that may have implied for him, but rather he was scared for _San's_ safety. This dodgy website had just basically sentenced San to a lifetime of suffering, and it didn't sit right with Wooyoung no matter how much he thought about it.

 _Look for the site owner_ , his mind's voice pressed, which Wooyoung strongly agreed with. If the person -- _or people_ \-- had _this_ much information on San's case just lying around in the open, then surely they must've thought up a solution by now, right? They had to have had the answers -- they _needed_ to. Because all Wooyoung wanted was for San to never get hurt again.

He began looking around, the urge to find out about the maker of that site stronger than ever.

His phone began to ring.

Distracted, Wooyoung grabbed it, his heart almost popping straight out of his chest when he saw the contact name.

**_boy i'd like to love💓_** _wants to video call you!_  
accept|decline

  
San wanted to video call him for the first time ever, and instantly that annoying stab of guilt pricked him, even when he knew he wasn't doing something inherently bad or despicable.

Even with that, Wooyoung pushed his laptop to one side so San wouldn't see anything, before seating more upright so he wouldn't slouch. And then he ran his hand through his hair, making sure that there were no stray strands present.

After Wooyoung deemed himself presentable enough, he quickly pressed 'accept'.

" _Hiii_ ," he said with a big smile that he hoped wouldn't reveal anything suspish.

San looked like he was someplace outside the house, the mild background noise and how bright his surroundings were testifying to that.

The older boy simply looked _gorgeous_ , all sultry, fox-like eyes and an immaculately chiselled bone structure. He had on a black beanie, which exposed his frequently hidden and rather strong brows and forehead, and his eyes kept alternating between watching Wooyoung and staring elsewhere as if he couldn't stand to look at himself for long.

Wooyoung didn't like that.

"Hey," Wooyoung started, "you look really good right now."

" _Really_?" San covered the lower part of his face with his bandaged fist, but it was clear he was smiling. " _Thank you_."

"I'll accept it only if you stop trying to cover your smile," Wooyoung replied, while the older male playfully rolled his eyes. "So stop hiding it."

" _I'm not hiding it_ ," San answered with a little pout, finally dropping his fist.

"I like your smile, it's pretty," Wooyoung told him, and he truly meant it. "And -- _gasp_ \-- you have some sexy dimples as well, so it's a very good combo!"

San quickly looked around like he didn't want anyone overhearing what Wooyoung just said. " _God, Woo, you suck_."

"I know you like it when I compliment you, prettyboy."

Of course, San wouldn't have been able to argue with that. His soft blush said it all.

"Hey, where are you right now?" Wooyoung eventually asked to keep the conversation going. He could see San gradually get more and more uncomfortable with the camera, and the fact that he'd still chosen to show his face most likely to surprise him and brighten his mood really touched Wooyoung.

" _I'm in the store Seonghwa hyung works part time in_ ," San replied, slightly adjusting his beanie, " _and I help him out from time to time. It's nice to be somewhere else apart from home or school for a change_."

Wooyoung grinned, happy to hear that, and since San kept staring at him through the screen with sparkling eyes, he himself started grinning subconsciously too. It made the younger want to coo at him, because San was so _cute_ he didn't seem real half the time, but he _was_. He was right there, watching Wooyoung like he hung the stars in the night sky. It only made Wooyoung feel a lot more unworthy to be on the receiving end of it.

"You keep staring at me," Wooyoung teased, noticing what appeared to be a small, metal table in front of the older boy. "And...I dunno, something tells me you kinda fancy me."

San chuckled, before lowering and adjusting his phone at an angle that now made his upper body and arms visible. He had on a black shirt that was a little tighter than his usual clothing, and the sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, exposing his forearms.

It was when Wooyoung fully realized just how small San's waist was.

San then paused, playing with the pen in his hand. " _Woo_?"

Wooyoung loudly cleared his throat, trying to rid his mind of any _unsuitable_ thoughts. "What're you doing right now?"

" _I'm planning on staying with Seonghwa for a while today, so I brought some things along to occupy myself with_." San looked happy as he spoke, acutely oblivious to how much of a mess Wooyoung's mind was.

" _But_ ," the older boy continued, " _don't make fun of me for it_."

Wooyoung blinked, settling back into reality. "Make fun of -- _oh my god,_ you're _seriously_ pulling out a bunch of text books from your bag. _Are you okay_?"

San flicked his pen around, an adorable giggle escaping his lips. " _I'm perfectly fine, thank you very much_." He turned the page of the closest textbook to him open, which just so happened to be math. " _I'm going to complete some exercises as well as the homework given to us. Hopefully they wouldn't be too tasking_."

" _Wow_ ," Wooyoung sarcastically praised, disbelief dripping off his tone. "You get free time and you decide to do _homework_."

San smiled, looking particularly attractive and highly distracting where he sat. " _Yeah,_ _duh_ _. I care about school, you know?_ "

"We're hanging out tomorrow to have some _real fun_ , no take-backs."

" _Oh really_?"

"Yes. Really," Wooyoung nodded, glancing at his laptop for a second. But a second was all he needed.

\- _about this site_

" _Woo_?" San asked, his eyebrows furrowing.

"Hmm?" Wooyoung had already pressed on the link, which brought him to a page that showed a bunch of facts and information about the website makers.

" _Are you doing school work too_?" San questioned with a soft grin, and the fact that he wasn't even being sarcastic about it made Wooyoung want to coo at him even further.

Christ, San was the literal definition of _babie_.

"Nah, but I _am_ online on my laptop," Wooyoung replied, his eyes surveying information after information.

Underneath the site creator bar was a name which quickly caught Wooyoung's eye:

 _choi daehwan_.

 _Choi_ _Daehwan_ _?_ Wooyoung thought. He had the same surname as San, so maybe that was why his name grabbed his attention first. Nevertheless, there was _something_ about this man's name that unsettled Wooyoung, yet piqued his curiosity.

"... _Are you okay_?" San's worried voice entered the younger's head, causing him to finally look up. " _You look like you've just seen something terrifying_."

"San," Wooyoung breathed as his and San's gazes met, "do you...have anyone related to you by the name of Choi Daehwan?"


	30. good lil' boys

  
**\- boy i'd like to love💓**  
 _hey, woo, i still want to know_ _smth_ _tho_.  
 _why'd you ask?_

Wooyoung grinned when he saw the new message from San's contact name enter his phone, his highly strung nerves finally settling bit by bit. 

He was sat at the furthest corner of the wide dinner table, cheers and laughter erupting from the other end as the rest of his family clinked wine glasses with the other family they were having a get together with. As soon as dinner was done with and dessert had been served, Wooyoung had politely excused himself from any further festivities to be held, before camping at a reclusive spot that he still resided at since he wasn't technically allowed to leave yet (thanks to his father's stupid, nonsensical orders). 

  
It wasn't like his family members gave a shit about where he went or even what he ate, but at least he wasn't forced to act nice to guests who were fake as hell and were _clearly_ only around to bask in his parents' money. But it wasn't any of Wooyoung's business.

**\- wooyoung**   
_ask what, dear?_

**\- boy i'd like to love💓**   
_dear???_   
_u sound like a grandma_

**\- wooyoung**   
_i'll be the only grandma you love kissing_

**\- boy i'd like to love💓**   
_ok_   
_thats_ _fucking weird_

**\- wooyoung**   
_do you prefer prettyboy the most then_

**\- boy i'd like to love💓**   
_have you eaten?_   
_and why do you wanna know about my grandpa_

**\- wooyoung**   
_relax, prettyboy_   
_1) yes i already ate because guests came over so its obligatory to_

**\- boy i'd like to love💓**   
_did your parents do anything?_

Wooyoung couldn't help but chuckle. San was _too_ thoughtful, especially when it came to someone like _him_.

**\- wooyoung**   
_if you mean ignore me and make sure i never get an opportunity to speak up, then yes_

**\- wooyoung**   
_and 2) i_ _didnt_ _know you had a relative named choi_ _daehwan_ _._   
_just saw some name online and wondered if it had anything to do w you because of the family name_

**\- wooyoung**   
_dumb, i know_

It _was_ a dumb excuse. Wooyoung was usually good at lying, but he hoped San wouldn't probe further since the younger male wanted what he was planning to fall through.

 _I'm doing this because of you_ , Wooyoung wanted to tell the older. Even though the type of relationship they had had grown even more indistinct, teethering in a grey area, Wooyoung knew for a fact that he was ready to do whatever it took to ensure San's happiness. He'd never been more sure of anything in his life.

**\- boy i'd like to love💓**   
_you sure?_

**\- wooyoung**   
_mhm dear_

**\- boy i'd like to love💓**   
_ugh, stop._

Wooyoung smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He _adored_ the way San was slowly beginning to get more and more confident with him, both in texts and calls, and in real life as well. It warmed his heart and made him feel a kind of way when he remembered how San could _barely_ look him the eyes at the start of their orthodox friendship, to how both boys now made eye contact with each other whenever they could.

**\- wooyoung**   
_what about you_   
_have you eaten?_

**\- boy i'd like to love💓**   
_hmmmm_   
_lasagna_

**\- wooyoung**   
_wish i was there w you_   
_then we'd eat lasagna together_

**\- boy i'd like to love💓**   
_shh i'm sure whatever you ate with ur parents was a thousand times fancier_

**\- wooyoung**   
_spending time with those people ruins my appetite_

**\- wooyoung**   
_i'd rather be with you_   
_holding your hand, eating with you and kissing you_

San took some time to respond, which only meant one thing to Wooyoung: the boy was probably blushing his arse off.

**\- wooyoung**   
_i see i got u all 'hot and_ _bothered'_ _hmm?_

**\- boy i'd like to love💓**   
_ur disgusting 💕_

**\- wooyoung**   
_that sentence and that emoji are giving me mixed signals_

**\- wooyoung**   
_pls_ _explain_ _urself_ _a bit better_

**\- boy i'd like to love** 💓  
 _✨ur disgusting 💕✨_

Wooyoung couldn't control the giggle that left his lips. He had no idea when San had become so daring with him, and even if it wasn't much by Wooyoung's standards, it still meant a lot to him that San was now comfortable enough around him. He was becoming a much _freer_ version of himself.

**\- wooyoung**   
_i think you're spending too much time around me_   
_you're becoming mean_

**\- boy i'd like to love💓**   
_you want me to leave?_

**\- wooyoung**   
_nooooooo_   
_i want you here, with me._   
_always♥️_

Again, San took some time to reply. By now, Wooyoung could predict whenever the older boy got flustered or even mildly affected by something. He could almost _picture_ the scene -- San's phone screen lighting up his features, revealing his pink tinted cheeks and growing, dazzling smile. The image made Wooyoung beam just thinking about it.

He looked up then, glancing briefly at his family still chatting with those guests of theirs, the only difference being that they were now seated at the patio. The surrounding lights were on, casting friendly amber lights on their trained smiles and calculative eyes. They all looked the same at that very moment -- like predatory wolves donned in grand clothes and expensive perfume to mask their soulless interiors, amiable beings until the opportunity to stab each other in the back arose. It made Wooyoung crack a humourless chuckle.

He looked away before any of them could catch his stare, but he could overhear them all the way from where he was. They were talking about business issues (as always), but this time around there was news about this upcoming out-of-state conference held tomorrow, which only meant one thing and one thing alone.

**\- wooyoung**   
_i have something planned for us_ _tomrw_ _n the rest of the week_

**\- boy i'd like to love💓**   
_what_

**\- wooyoung**   
_shh_   
_its a_ _secrettt_

**\- wooyoung**   
_but, since i'm quite a generous master, i'll allow you a hint of what i'm planning for tomorrow for a relatively small price_

**\- boy i'd like** **to** **love💓**   
_what_

**\- wooyoung**   
_send a selfie to unlock the hint babe_

Oh, Wooyoung could just _imagine_ the blush on San's face. Not to mention, the older boy had the prettiest shade of blush Wooyoung had ever laid his eyes upon, a roseate pink that made him seem all childlike and incorrupt. It brought out the usually veiled protective side of Wooyoung.

**\- boy i'd like to love💓**   
_i dont usually take selfies though_

**\- wooyoung**   
_i'll take anything._   
_its you, after all_

A part of Wooyoung wanted to just slap himself, because since when did he become so _cringey_? He never acted like this towards anyone else, most of his years being spent antagonizing or fighting with others because everyone pissed him off at some point in time.

But San... San made him feel like a boy that had nothing but _love_ to offer, like that stereotypical teen girl crushing on a boy and gushing on and on about him until everyone around her got sick and tired of it. It was an unreal but beautiful feeling, one that Wooyoung wanted to experience for as long as he could.

**\- boy i'd like to love💓**   
_i don't know about this..._

**\- wooyoung**   
_you know you're an attractive human, right?_   
_i'll love whatever picture you decide to send_

**\- wooyoung**   
_and don't you want the hint 👀_

San didn't reply immediately. Wooyoung guessed he was probably looking for a picture of himself, and his heart raced with anticipation.

**\- boy i'd like to love💓**

  
**\- boy i'd like to love💓**   
_i took this a couple months ago_   
_its more of the more decent ones_

Wooyoung hated being dramatic, but he swore his heart _stopped_ , before doing a couple skips _and then_ stopping again.

San was _stunning_.

**\- wooyoung**   
_200/10 would makeout with again_

**\- boy i'd like to love💓**   
_ur unbelievable_   
_but tell me the hint please_

**\- wooyoung**   
_wait,,_   
_wait wait wait wait_

**\- wooyoung**   
_i'm too awestruck by this beauty i'm witnessing rn_

**\- boy i'd like to love💓**   
_wooyoouunngg_

**\- wooyoung**   
_why's my heart pounding so damn hard_

**\- boy i'd like to love💓**   
_stopppp_   
_and please tell me the hinttt_

Wooyoung softly laughed.

**\- wooyoung**   
_fine, ok ok_   
_it has to do w my house_

**\- boy i'd like to love💓**   
_your house?_   
_woo,_ _whats_ _going on??_

**\- wooyoung**   
_dont worry tho_   
_my family members won't be involved, trust me._

**\- wooyoung**   
_i'll handle everything,_   
_all you have to do sit back and enjoy the ride prettyboy_

**\- boy i'd like to love💓**   
_i don't think it's a good idea_

**\- wooyoung**   
_san, just trust me_   
_i may have done horrible shit to you in the past_   
_but i swear i won't let you get hurt_   
_i just want us to have a good time tomorrow, okay?_

**\- wooyoung**   
_let's raise the stakes and do_ _smth_ _crazy_

_* * *_

The weekend so far had been nothing less than _eventful_ thus far, with San pushing past his own borders and doing things he never would've thought he was capable of. 

Today was just Sunday, yet it felt like an eternity had passed since he'd shared his first kiss with Wooyoung. San guessed it felt like that because he wanted to savour each and every moment with the black haired male as long as he was allowed to. Years spent getting stuck and pulled into the web always _losing_ _something_ made San all the more cautious of living and loving. He'd eventually learned to treasure and appreciate the present, because the future was malicious and could change its colours anytime like a friend who could _never_ keep their promise.

  
It was nearing twilight by now, a misty royal blue dissipating the burnt orange of the skies. As the sun began to hide itself beyond the horizon, San received his latest text message from Wooyoung.

**\- woo 🥰**   
_the dress code is: casual~~_   
_and_ _bring your school bag, school clothes, and other essentials as well~~_

**\- san**   
_what are you planning?_

**\- woo🥰**   
_be patient_ _angel_ _~~_   
_i'll be over at ur house soon_

It turned out soon was literally a few seconds, because the doorbell sounded off right after, startling San a lot more than he'd ever admit.

Seonghwa was in the kitchen, a glass of water in hand when this happened. Almost immediately, he made his way to the door, smiling impishly at San.

"Oh," he whispered to his younger cousin once realizing it was Wooyoung, "your friend is here. _Date_?"

San made the wise decision to ignore him, instead rushing into his room to pack his stuff and not waste the younger's time.

And to be honest, he couldn't get rid of the nervousness he felt. His heart wildly raced, excitement mixing with slight dread as to what tonight would be made of. He found himself wishing to whatever being was up there that nothing would go wrong tonight. That was the last thing he and Wooyoung needed.

When he finally entered back into the livingroom, he spotted Wooyoung and Seonghwa by the doorway, engaged in what seemed to be a hushed, private conversation. Wooyoung's eyes then met his, and instantly he stepped back, an affectionate smile brightening up his features.

"Apparently you're sleeping over at _his_ house now," Seonghwa said, his eyebrows raised in mild questioning. He didn't look mad though, just genuinely curious.

San resisted the urge to hold Wooyoung's hand once the younger male helped him with the bag that held all his stuff, stiffly letting his arms fall to his sides instead.

"Yep. We're gonna hang out and _stuff_." Wooyoung's icy blue shirt and smokey grey shorts looked inexplicably good on him as he busied himself with adjusting the bag's strap on his shoulder. The cotton fabric of his top brushed against San's body due to the little distance between them, and heat tickled the older's insides. He could only hope he wasn't blushing yet again.

"Well, you guys have fun." Seonghwa looked out the window, before facing the two boys in front of him again. "Looks like you guys have a ride."

Wooyoung flung his arm around San's shoulders, his fingers discreetly rubbing the latter's back and providing him with a sense of comfort. Seonghwa didn't see. But if he did, he never commented on it.

"Yes, we do," Wooyoung nodded, glancing at the boy beside him. When San noticed his stare, they both couldn't hold in their smiles.

The air outside was cold and windy, casting shivers down San's spine and sparse goosebumps littering the surface of his skin. But he soon discovered that he wouldn't be cold for long, because as soon as Seonghwa locked the door, Wooyoung's arm slid down his back and settled itself around his hips, warming San right up.

"W-Woo," he began, disliking the way he stuttered, "what if Seonghwa hyung's still around?"

Wooyoung just chuckled. "I don't think he is. And even if he was, I don't think he'd crucify you because another boy just so happened to hold you close. We _are_ friends, after all."

San bit his lip. Yes, he and Wooyoung _were_ friends, but for some reason that word didn't sit right with him. Not anymore.

Being here with Wooyoung and under this weather brought San a sense of deja vu, which promptly made him remember that kiss they'd had in the rain once again.

"Jongho, unlock the damn doors. It's too cold out here."

San settled back into reality once he heard Wooyoung's words, and he sincerely hoped Jongho hadn't witnessed what he and Wooyoung had been doing. Not that he wanted to keep things a secret because they were both boys, but because he kind of preferred things to be more on the private side. These special feelings of want and romance were still new to him, after all, and he wanted to get used to it first and foremost.

He wanted to be able to know and love Wooyoung first before the world knew about them.

Jongho rolled his car's windows down and flashed his familiar gummy smile at San, prompting San to also return it. "San! I haven't seen you in a hot minute. What's up?"

"I'm good." San sweetly chuckled, his dimples appearing for a second. He missed the way Wooyoung watched him then with a fond, doting look in his eyes.

And Wooyoung, in an attempt to make his previous actions a lot less obvious, proceeded to stomp his foot like a child demanding candy from his parents. "Unlock the fucking door, Jong."

"You're speaking casually to me. For that, San can take the passenger seat."

"I _knew_ you liked San more than me," Wooyoung remarked, before opening the door to the back with a petulant huff.

San, on the other hand, let out a giggle and then opened the door to the passenger seat, doing as Jongho requested.

In a few seconds, Jongho started the car and drove down the road.

"You have no idea how annoying Wooyoung has been since morning," the college student soon begun, shooting San a couple glances from time to time. "Ordering me around like I'm some chauffeur, asking me a bunch of relationship questions as if I'm some kind of Cupid? Man, this kid's got some _guts_."

"Really?" San questioned just as Wooyoung kicked the back of Jongho's seat, huffing even louder when the oldest male didn't even react.

"San, don't listen to that old man," Wooyoung answered.

" _Old man_?!" Jongho gasped, before quickly handling Wooyoung the middle finger because he was a responsible driver and wanted to focus on the road. San, in the meantime, quietly laughed to himself.

"Once I get my driver's license this summer, I won't need you anymore," Wooyoung continued.

"You wish. You'll _always_ need me."

" _Pwahck_ _!_ " Wooyoung pretended to throw up.

San laughed even more, entertained to bits. He'd forgotten just how funny Wooyoung could be when he wanted to.

_* * *_

San didn't know what he'd expected when Jongho finally pulled up in the driveway to Wooyoung's house, but it definitely wasn't what he ended up seeing.

Stark in the middle of carefully preened and plucked shrubbery, was a place that looked more like some grand ensemble of architecture instead of a basic house. San could only stare at the place through the window, an unforseen force keeping his feet planted in Jongho's safe haven of a car. He suddenly felt like he didn't want to open the car door.

Wooyoung waved at him and grinned, the soft minimal lights from the front doors of the house bathing him like stardust. 

"San, what're you doing?" Wooyoung shouted from where he was. He looked happy -- _excited_. Like he had something particularly crafty up his sleeve. "I have a lot of stuff planned!"

"Loud boy is right; he planned a lot of stuff," Jongho nodded in agreement. "So hurry along now."

San could've sworn he saw the older wink, but maybe he was seeing things. It _was_ a little dark outside after all.

Eventually, San shut off the negative voices in his head that kept whispering about how horrible tonight was going to turn out, and left Jongho's car with his bag. In less than ten seconds, Wooyoung had already grabbed his hand, leading him up the cobblestoned pathway and closer to the closed metal doors.

"Woo -- " San let out, a bit breathless because of the impromptu run he and the younger boy just had. Since the start, he'd never been the athletic type. "Jongho -- We didn't get to say goodbye to him."

Wooyoung laughed, a hearty and breathtaking sound, and then softly stroked the older's chin with his thumb and index finger. San immediately gulped.

"You're such a good person," Wooyoung remarked, his voice low. "Makes me wonder how much of you I can _ruin_."

Silence; deepset and palatable. 

But then Wooyoung was yelping, because San had smacked his chest with his bag.

"You're such a perv. Is this the surprise you had waiting for me?" San asked a grumbling Wooyoung, trying really hard to contain his laughter. Truth was, the younger's words _did_ affect him, so in return he had to do something -- _fast_. And his impulsive side had won over.

  
"No -- _no_!" Wooyoung shook his head. "Do you have _that_ little faith in me, Choi?"

"I was just wondering," San answered. He gulped once again when Wooyoung stared at him with those puppy dog eyes of his. "Please don't get mad at me."

Wooyoung chuckled and patted San's back. "I really like you, why would I get mad at you?" He rapidly pressed a couple numbers on the house security code, and the doors opened, revealing yet another private door a couple feet away.

"Okay," Wooyoung clapped his hands after the previous doors were locked. He gestured to the one in front of them. "I'll unlock that door and enter, and then I'll call you to do something for me, okay?"

San nodded. He was so damn curious as to what the younger had planned. "Okay..."

And that was what Wooyoung did. He held San's bag for him and entered the house first, while San patiently waited in the short hall, nervously fiddling with his phone.

At last, his phone rang.

" _State your identity_."

San blew a small breath, the edge of his lips curling into a tiny smile. "...San..."

" _You may enter_ ," Wooyoung commanded, but his tone made it sound like he was _this_ close to laughing.

San did, shock filling his insides when he was faced with nothing but darkness and these medium-sized glow-in-the-dark arrows every few feet.

" _First question_."

"Woo, what is this?" San questioned, but the younger ignored him.

" _First question_ ," Wooyoung repeated. " _If you get it correct, the arrows would turn green. If you're wrong, then red. You can only advance if you get the question right_."

"Wooyoung, I'm asking again, what's this?" San didn't want to admit it and ruin everything, but the darkness was slowly getting to him. It reminded him of memories he so badly wanted to forget.

" _Your first question: what animal makes honey?_ "

San inhaled a steady breath. "...A bee."

" _Take out the_ _'A'_ _and the extra 'e'."_

"Be...?"

The first arrow turned a trippy green colour, its lights calming San down a little.

" _Go to the next arrow, please_ ," Wooyoung instructed.

Once San did so without much complaints, the younger boy asked his next question.

" _If a bag is mine, then I call it what bag?_ "

San chewed on his lip. He still had no idea where Wooyoung was going with this. "Uh... My bag?"

" _Take out the 'bag'."_

"My."

The second arrow glowed green as well.

" _You're really good at this, prettyboy."_

"Wooyoung. Ask the next question," San begged into the phone, jokingly rolling his eyes when the younger cackled.

" _What are you?"_ Wooyoung posed his next question.

"What?"

 _"I mean, your gender_."

"Male."

" _No. Another word_ ," Wooyoung corrected. His voice had now lost its carefree edge. He sounded a lot more serious.

"...Boy."

"... _Yeah_." Wooyoung then chuckled, but it held a certain nervousness in it.

San's heart began to squeeze, a part of him starting to realize where this was heading to. But he willed himself to stay composed.

The third arrow glowed green as well, and San walked towards the last arrow.

" _What... What were we when we first started hanging out_?"

San gulped, his heart pounding loudly against his ribcage. Everything... _everything_ had became a lot more obvious, so much so that he couldn't just turn a blind eye to it anymore.

"Friends."

Wooyoung cleared his throat, his voice coming out awfully small. " _The singular version_."

"...Friend."

" _Use the answers in a sentence_."

San tightly shut his eyes, his racing heartbeat storming his eardrums. "...Be my b-boyfriend."

The last arrow lit up in the brightest green, dazzling and sparkling like an emerald gemstone.

" _Close your eyes, Sannie_ ," Wooyoung whispered.

San tried to laugh, but his throat felt all tight and clogged up. "I-I already am..."

Footsteps approached him, matching with the uneven pace of San's beating heart. He could feel Wooyoung's presence right next to him -- his _warmth_. And just like always, it calmed San down and doused his heart in peace.

A clap was heard, brightening up the area where both boys stood.

"Open your eyes, San," Wooyoung commanded, and when the older did, the first thing he got faced with was the younger male staring lovingly at him.

Wooyoung held up a generously sized cake with beautiful purple icing and edible pastel flowers. It even had the flickering candles, fancy calligraphy and everything. "Will you be my boyfriend?"

The tightness in San's throat built itself up, causing his nose to feel all stuffed. He sniffed, and his eyes stung with unshed tears. He had no idea where they came from.

" _Y-Yes_ ," San exhaled, clamping a hand over his mouth to hide his watery smile from sight. And _fuck_ , a new set of tears began descending down his cheeks.

Wooyoung smiled as well, his eyes glistening with nothing but joy. "God, I dunno, but I feel like crying too. Fuck, I'm so happy you said yes. Guess today, March 17th, is now the day we became official boyfriends."

He reached out to wipe San's tears away. "Happy boyfriend day, to _us_."

After San blew out the candles, he pulled the younger close while making sure the cake wasn't in the way, and slowly, _passionately_ kissed him, overwhelmed with so many emotions at that moment that he didn't know what else to do.

And Wooyoung didn't waste time in reciprocating it.

They kissed over the course of that night, again and again. When they took a few slices of cake, cringing at the cheesy romantic songs (that Wooyoung had picked) playing through the speakers. When Wooyoung decided to take pictures for whatever reason, capturing several moments of them in the act. And especially when they eventually ended up inside the mansion's indoor pool, hands interwoven in each other's damp locks and shirtless torsos pressed together.

San had no idea how he'd gotten the confidence to take off his shirt especially when someone like Wooyoung was present, but that high of happiness he'd felt earlier that night still lingered. It bubbled underneath his skin, sizzled from his fingertips and set his heart ablaze, and San _loved_ it.

He and Wooyoung continued to surround themselves with the water and each other's body heat. And at some point, Wooyoung began to trail kisses along San's jaw, neck and any other area he saw fit, letting the older know how beautiful, how irresistible and how _precious_ he was whenever he could. And with each kiss, each caress and each sweet and thoughtful word Wooyoung uttered that night, San finally _knew_.

He loved Wooyoung.


	31. drowning

San, despite being mostly covered up in piles of blankets that were smooth and soft to the touch, felt the cold starting to creep under his skin. The cool air slipped up his abdomen and spread along his chest, and finally, the teen lacklusterly opened his eyes.

It still stupefied San the same way it'd done yesterday night when he took in the sheer size of Wooyoung's room. The mininalistic-themed white decor looked a gloomier grey in the surrounding darkness, and San felt his perception of distance get all wonky and disoriented. He figured he only felt that way since he was so used to his own room and its drastically smaller size.

The pale curtains to the outside world fluttered a little about because there wasn't much wind to begin with. It was just cold.

For a while, San watched them distractedly, lost in his thoughts about the series of events that took place last night. He felt his lips lifting to form a giggly smile as he remembered when he and Wooyoung held each other on that very bed, Wooyoung's head buried on his shoulder.

San's hands absentmindedly ran themselves over the surface of the queen-sized bed, the space next to him empty and absent of warmth.

" _Wooyoung_..." San whispered to the air. The younger wasn't there, and for a second the overthinker in San wondered if Wooyoung's parents had found out about them and if he was now in trouble.

 _Idiot, stop thinking about that. Wooyoung's parents and sister aren't home, and nothing's going to mess today up. Everything will be fine,_ San thought, steadily breathing in and out. But now he couldn't sit still any longer. He needed to go find Wooyoung.

San pushed off the covers and carefully set his feet on the floors. A shiver cut through his core when the cold air freaking _attacked_ him, and the sleeveless, thin shirt Wooyoung had lent him wasn't doing anything to combat it.

Without wasting any more time, San pushed his feet into his slippers and marched to open the door, leaving the room.

He paused, forgetting just how daunting and outright terrifying the halls in Wooyoung's house looked especially cloaked in the dark -- like they'd _never end_. But before he could plan his next movements, his eyes caught onto a thin strip of light coming from the door three feet away from him.

Like a bee to flower nectar, San followed the light until he was faced with a slightly ajar bathroom door that had the silhouette of someone inside. The person's back faced San, their form seated on the closed toilet lid while they had a phone pressed to their ear.

It was Wooyoung, and the mere sight of the younger made San's heart race and chest warm right up like he was at the beach on a bright, sunny day.

Wooyoung's face was like a blank slate however, something trapped deep in his eyes that made them appear... _drained_.

San pushed back his growing worries though, before politely knocking on the door and alerting the younger boy of his presence.

Like magic, that foreign look on Wooyoung's eyes disappeared, and in its place was a wide smile and a cute wave.

 _See_? The voice in San's head assured him. _Wooyoung is fine, and always will be. Stop worrying_.

"Good morning," San greeted, watching as Wooyoung pushed the phone into his pants pocket.

Wooyoung quickly hopped off the toilet lid, making his way to the older male. "Hey. Had a good night's sleep? I hope my voice wasn't too loud."

San shook his head with a giggle. "Nah, it wasn't." There was never a time in his life -- even when his parents were still alive -- that he'd smiled _this_ much. Yet here he was, smiling and chuckling like a maniac just because Wooyoung was there with him.

 _God, you're hopeless_ , San thought.

Wooyoung grinned. He stepped closer and gently ruffled San's dark locks. "I'm glad."

"Can I ask who you were calling?"

"Seonghwa. Just wanted to know if you're fine and if everything went well." Wooyoung kept staring at San, and it kind of made the older male flustered.

"Oh, okay." San nodded. "What time is it?"

Wooyoung pulled out his phone once more, casually rubbing one eye. He looked tired, and San had the urge to hug him and let his head rest on his shoulder. "Still early. A bit after four am."

"D'you still wanna go to sleep?" San asked. A part of him wanted that badly, wanted them to spend the rest of the day under the covers and in each other's embrace, safely hidden from the harsh outside world.

"We have school in a few hours, and I'm _kind_ of an early bird," Wooyoung laughed. "Once I wake up, I find it really difficult to go back to sleep."

San nodded. "Okay."

"You still sleepy?"

San shook his head, trying his absolute best to stifle the yawn that wanted to leave his mouth. He guessed he must've looked funny, because Wooyoung began laughing again.

"So you still wanna sleep," the younger hypothesised.

"M'not sleepy," San denied. "In fact, you look a lot sleepier than I am."

Wooyoung flashed a subdued smirk that sent the older's insides spinning. "Trust me, San. I'm not. I'm a _different_ kind of sleepy."

"I don't understand."

"And you don't need to," Wooyoung spoke in a hushed tone. He stepped behind San and held his shoulders, before slowly moving their bodies to the sink.

As if relying on pure instinct, San immediately looked down upon witnessing himself in the bathroom mirror -- but it wasn't because of the disdain he held for his looks.

No, it was due to those dark little marks that decorated his fair skin. They weren't painful like a bruise, or permanent like a scar, but they were _there_ , and the reason for their sole existence made San's entire neck blush a candid pink.

"Don't be shy, those hickeys look good on you," Wooyoung muttered in San's ear.

"H-How -- " San swallowed a breath, "how the hell am I going to cover them up?"

"Why do you want to wanna cover them up?" Wooyoung questioned with a smug smirk that San wanted to kiss and and slap off at the same time.

"Because they're _all over_ my neck and chest, Woo," San explained, unable to hide his anxiety any longer. "I don't wanna be stared at."

"Okay," Wooyoung nibbled on his lower lip, "I'll lend you some makeup to cover the ones on your neck. But keep the ones on your chest, I like to see them."

San just glared at the younger's amused state, gently pushing him off. "I can't believe you have the nerve to _laugh_ when I'm out here freaking the fuck out. What if it turned out to be me who gave you those hickeys, huh?"

Wooyoung's eyebrows rose in contemplation. "Really? I won't mind that."

"You're unbelievable."

"And you're _out of this world_ , _honey,_ " Wooyoung jumped like a preppy cheerleader, shooting San a multitude of finger guns.

San sniggered, but it turned into full blown laughter in no time. God, Wooyoung was amazing.

_* * *_

  
The clouds were a heavy, grey mess in the colourless skies, making everything below it seem like a wasteland. They cloaked the city area and seemed to shadow everything, especially Wooyoung's smile.

Once both boys had left the house and took the bus to some convenience store, that strange fatigue in Wooyoung's eyes returned, darkening his gaze and making him appear to have eye bags.

Since they were still a bit early, San had suggested for them to grab some sandwiches and two drinks in that store, and as they sat and ate, the older couldn't help but stare at Wooyoung with a worried look in his eyes.

Wooyoung in the meantime only took little bites out of his sandwich, before resorting to picking at it a few minutes in.

"Hey, Wooie. You okay?" San asked him with a smile he hoped looked healing enough.

Wooyoung lowly snickered, the skin around his eyes still that concerning lilac. "Wooie, huh?"

"It just came out -- sorry," San mumbled, but Wooyoung let his palm rest over his, running his fingers over his knuckles.

"No, it's fine." Wooyoung sighed, taking another small bite out of his sandwich. His eyes drifted off somewhere for a bit, which San didn't mind until he discovered where (or _what_ ) the younger's eyes were trained on.

Beside the cashiers for safety, was an enclosed rack for cigarette packs, and before San could think more about it, he cautiously nudged the younger's arm.

"What?" Wooyoung asked, his dull, lifeless gaze settling on San. It made the hairs at the nape of San's neck rise, because Wooyoung didn't look like _Wooyoung_.

"Those cigarettes -- "

"I'm not going to buy them," Wooyoung said. "Just craving them a little bit, yeah."

"...They're bad for you, you know?"

Wooyoung just shrugged, which hadn't been the reaction San was expecting. "...I know. But they're hard to give up, to be honest."

"You can try some alternatives."

Wooyoung placed his sandwich on the food tray which had been served to them. "Yeah? Like what?"

"I dunno. Like uh...sweets or gum, or even coffee?" San suggested, chewing on his own sandwich to distract himself from Wooyoung's unrelenting stare.

"You know...you're the only person who's actually _suggested_ to me some alternatives to smoking," Wooyoung admitted. He kept his gaze on the older male, watching the older like he could see right through him. "I mean, a bunch of strangers would see me smoking and turn up their noses, complaining about wayward youth and other dumb fucking shit like that. And then my friends would accept it as a common occurrence or even _encourage_ it because it's 'cool' or whatever.

"And then my parents would shout at me to put that cigarette away, because to them anything that's out of sight is officially _out of mind_." Wooyoung's thumb continued to rub San's hand, uncaring of their surroundings. "But _you_ , you _do_ care. You _actually_ care about me."

Butterflies flew around San's stomach. "Why...why _wouldn't_ I care about you?"

"I guess I'm kinda not used to it."

"I wasn't used to liking how I look either," San said, "but you kept complimenting me, kept telling me how special I am and how lucky you are to have someone like me in your life. And eventually, I started liking me more. At least, I'm getting there. So...I'd like to do the same for you too."

San met the younger's eyes and grinned. "I'll be your safety pin. Your _lifeline_."

Wooyoung chuckled. "Really? I must say this sounds like a huge commitment you're making."

"I mean it, though."

Wooyoung leaned in close enough for San to spot the small beauty mark below his left eye. "Better keep your promise, Choi. No take-backs."

San softly punched his chest. " _Duh_. I promise."

_* * *_

  
Like a chaotic thunderstorm, Wooyoung's mood seemed to worsen more and more during the school period.

At math, students had been left with some assignments to do since the teacher had been absent today. And for a while, things were peaceful and quiet, until a stapler suddenly crashed next to San's right leg. The horrid sound it made startled San, but the next thing he witnessed outright _terr_ _ified_ him.

Wooyoung had taken the stapler and stood up, the stationery clutched tight in his grip. "Who sent that?"

Chatter died down, with the other students casting nervous glances at each other. An uncomfortable, stiff silence enveloped the clsssroom.

" _Who sent that_?" Wooyoung repeated, his voice much louder and angrier.

It struck fear into San's heart, and he reached out to Wooyoung's unbuttoned school shirt, tugging at it slightly.

"Woo," he whispered, trying to get to the other male. "It's -- it's fine -- "

A boy leaning against his desk at the back with cropped brown hair jutted his chin out at Wooyoung in a mocking manner. "I did, dude. What's up?"

His friends next to him exchanged quiet laughter, but they instantly died down once they saw the look on Wooyoung's face.

He was _pissed_.

"Wooyoung -- " San tried again, but couldn't get another word in because the younger proceeded to _throw_ the stapler _right at_ the male.

Gasps and shouts erupted throughout the classroom when the heavy stationery slammed against the wall beside the boy's _head_ , and that was only because he'd moved out of the way on time.

Which meant Wooyoung had aimed for the stapler to _hit_ him.

"What the actual _fuck_ , man!" The boy exclaimed at Wooyoung, but the look of fright on his eyes was as clear as day.

" _Wooyoung_!" San whisper-yelled, still struggling to comprehend what had happened. He gripped the younger's wrist, only to feel how stiff it was.

"Don't _ever_ pull shit like that ever again, you hear me?" Wooyoung threatened, his voice bordering on a venomous growl. "Or I will rip you to fucking _shreds_."

San stood up then. He _had_ to, because there was no way he'd allow the younger to do something he'd fucking regret later on.

Ignoring the many nervous stares directed at them, San held Wooyoung close to him and hurriedly pulled him out of the class. The younger's body had grown more lax, allowing San to drag him by the wrist and into the boys' bathroom.

Wooyoung was shaking, his hands trembling and chest hyperventilating like he'd just gone on a sprint.

San engulfed him with a huge hug, holding on tight like Wooyoung would fall and slip right through his fingertips if he didn't.

"Take a deep breath, Woo," San encouraged. The younger slowly obeyed as his hands fisted the back of his shirt almost _painfully_ , but San didn't let that deter him. "You're doing good, okay? Just...just keep taking deep breaths. You'll be fine."

"Kang Jaehyung is an asshat. I know this, everyone knows this. So why -- " Wooyoung inhaled, " _why_ did I get so worked up?"

"You were just having a bad day, is all," San reassured. "It's not your fault."

Wooyoung let him go and walked up to the bathroom sink, glaring so _spitefully_ at his own reflection in the mirror. The sight reminded San of his lowest moments, of the time he'd spent submerged in his own darkness and wallowing in his numerous insecurities.

He could recognize the hatred in Wooyoung's gaze, because he'd been staring at himself with that same expression ever since his parents' death.

"Wooyoung," San stepped up to him, "it's not your fault."

"It _is_."

" _It's not_ ," San pressed.

Wooyoung turned around to stare at him, surprising the older with the sight of tears brimming in his eyes. "I fucking _felt_ it again, San. That _thing_ \-- that ticking time bomb that gave me the urge to lash out and _destroy_. At that moment, I wanted nothing more than for that stapler to hit him across the face. I wanted to do even _more_ than that to him. I was so _furious_."

Wooyoung's words weighed on San's chest like an anchor, and despite the implication of the younger's words, San securely intertwined their hands.

"It's alright. We'll figure this out," he kissed Wooyoung's forehead, feeling the younger starting to calm down. "We'll figure this out together."

Only time would tell if San's words turned out to be true or not.


	32. new look

Mingi was seated at a table in the cafeteria with Yunho next to him when San and Wooyoung entered that afternoon. Although San shouldn't have been surprised at the sight of those two together, he still was, mostly because he wasn't used to Yunho's presence yet. They weren't friends -- _that_ much was obvious, but the taller hadn't gone out of his way to trouble or inconvenience him in a while.

" _This_ is new," Wooyoung spoke up first as soon as they were only centimeters away from the other boys. Like a switch that had been flipped, Wooyoung had returned to his normal self. Or, as _normal_ as he could get. It satisfied San and lessened his worries, even when the younger's words still lingered at the back of his mind.

"Shut up," Yunho replied before taking a huge bite out of his apple.

"You two look.. _.happy_?" Mingi proposed as he observed both San and Wooyoung, a small smile pulling at his lips. "I mean -- did you two make up?"

"We _made up,_ alright," Wooyoung answered, causing San to freaking _panic_.

Glad they'd taken seats right next to each other, San lovingly, carefully, _kicked_ Wooyoung's shin under the table. The younger male instantly howled in pain, but that didn't seem to affect him much because next thing San knew, he had his hand behind his back, tickling him to oblivion.

"Woo -- _fuck_ ," San cursed, his cheeks a bright pink because Mingi and Yunho were _right there_. And they were undoubtedly watching the show.

"Guess you guys _are_ telling the truth then," Mingi laughed, adjusting the pair of glasses on his face. Yunho, on the other hand, looked like he was experiencing two dosages of second-hand embarrassment.

Wooyoung fortunately left San alone some seconds later. It was a good thing he did because San would've probably resorted to drop-kicking him if he'd continued. But then again, San would be lying to himself if he said he'd attempt hurting Wooyoung in any way possible. He wouldn't be able to do it -- mostly because he was thoroughly and undeniably _whipped_ for the younger.

"Crap," San met Mingi's expectant gaze, "I kinda forgot to bring your umbrella."

Mingi chuckled, waving dismissively. "Nah, it's chill. My family has a _ton_ of umbrellas, it's kind of like they're hoarding them or something."

"Wait," Wooyoung spoke up, twirling his ice cream's spoon in thought. "You were the person who dropped San off Friday night?"

"Uh..." Mingi's eyebrows rose, and San noticed the way Yunho kept glancing his way, each stare longer than the last. Soon he'd resorted to full-on admiring, but Mingi didn't appear to mind it in the slightest. "Yeah? I mean, San had eaten dinner at my place earlier."

" _San had dinner at your place?"_ Yunho and Wooyoung questioned at the exact same time, with Wooyoung shooting San a surprised look.

"Jinx!" Wooyoung proclaimed soon after, while Yunho dished out a gigantic eye-roll.

San smiled, because Wooyoung could be _very_ cute once in a while, and for a second there he wanted to kiss the younger again. But then he remembered they were in front of Mingi and Yunho, as well as a majority of the school population. And San already kind of knew that Wooyoung's parents wouldn't be in favour of their son being with another boy, even when it hurt admitting it.

San wouldn't risk Wooyoung getting into trouble because of him.

So, he settled for locking their pinkies under the table, immediately spotting the content smile that grew on Wooyoung's face. They couldn't do much now, but later on when the time was right, they could be together whenever and however they wanted.

Then Yunho, his face flushed and embarrassed, pushed his plate of pizza towards a laughing Mingi, and San halted his daydreaming.

"What's going on?" San whispered at Wooyoung's side.

"Yunho said something about the pizza looking like a rotten butthole, and then Mingi asked him how he'd know what a rotten butthole looks like, but before Yunho could explain himself, Mingi said he wouldn't mind taking the pizza."

San watched both boys again, noticing how empty Yunho's tray looked in comparison to Mingi's. The shorter's side of the table was filled with two pizza slices and other side dishes, whilst Yunho only had a small bottle of yoghurt now.

"Yunho's like a baby worm," Wooyoung joked out loud to the annoyance of his taller friend, "he only likes stuff containing milk, or apples."

"I will _kick you,_ " Yunho threatened.

San looked at his tray, remembering he'd taken two green apples as an afterthought because he felt he wouldn't have minded eating them that afternoon.

He cleared his throat, unanimously gaining the attention of the three other guys at the table. His first instinct was to hide or bury himself beneath the table or something along those lines, but he quickly kicked that feeling to the curb. _These people won't hurt you_.

"Hey, Yunho," San started, and then placed both apples on the taller's tray. "You can, uh, take mine. I already have other stuff to eat."

Unlike Wooyoung whose eyes were the ones betraying what he felt, Yunho's face was entirely readable at that moment. He looked taken aback, _astounded_. Like he couldn't believe San of all people would do something like that for him, especially considering the circumstances that made them know each other.

"...Show your gratitude, doofus," Wooyoung commented, before yelping and trying to hide behind his tray when Yunho flicked a plastic spoon his way.

When his eyes met San's once more, he released an uncharacteristic smile that looked so out of place with his outward personality yet fleshed it up and made him seem a lot more _real_.

"Uh, thank you." Yunho looked awkward, and San was pretty sure he looked awkward too when he'd replied with a: "You're welcome."

"That's our cute baby worm," Mingi cooed as he softly nudged Yunho's shoulder with his own. And Yunho didn't _do anything_. It both amused and shocked San, because he just _knew_ if Wooyoung had been the one uttering those words at Yunho, he'd probably face certain death. Or worse.

"I see my best friend clearly has his favourites now," Wooyoung said with a faux bitter expression. "Where'd our three years of friendship go, huh? Straight into the gutter?"

Yunho chewed on his apple. "You bet, bitch."

Wooyoung flipped him the bird, causing San and Mingi to let out amused chuckles.

Wooyoung's free hand massaged San's knee and thigh below the table, spreading heat and all sorts of fuzzy sensations straight into San's heart. He really could get used to this.

_* * *_

  
Between kisses shared between them in the bathroom after Wooyoung had finished one of those compulsory business classes he had every Monday, San braved asking that one question that'd been bugging him all day ever since Wooyoung's actions at math class.

"Hey," Wooyoung ran his thumb along the older's wrist, "what are you thinking?"

"If -- " San paused, trying to figure out a way to word what he wanted to say. "If this...if what you felt at math persists, would you seek help?"

Wooyoung stayed silent for a few seconds, and San could feel his anxiety rising.

"...The way I felt back then when I did therapy," the younger finally spoke, "like a fucking experiment, a _lab rat_... I don't want to feel that way ever again." He held San's hands in his. "I feel better now -- I feel _okay_. I promise I won't let it affect me again, and I won't do something impulsive that'd get me in trouble. Just... _trust me_ , alright? I don't wanna go back there with my parents again..."

_* * *_

  
**\- woo🥰**   
_i kinda have something to tell you later today_ _since school's closed cuz of the teachers' workshop._   
_and yeah, i also have a lot of stuff planned too_

San couldn't sleep, but Wooyoung's texts proved to be the perfect distraction.

**\- san**   
_wait, what stuff?_

**\- woo🥰**   
_send selfie to unlock hint_

**\- san**   
_wooyounnng_

**\- woo🥰**   
_saaaannn_

**\- san**   
_stop being like this_   
_i really dont have much selfies of myself_

**\- woo🥰**   
_but i'm ur boyfriend_

San's face heated up. That one word brought in those treasured memories of the time he'd spent over at Wooyoung's place, and he couldn't hold in his grin.

**\- san**   
_fine_

**\- woo🥰**   
_yayy_

San flipped through his Sahara Desert's worth of selfies. He only had about seven pictures of himself taken throughout the two years he'd had his phone, and only _three_ of them were selfies. Not that San thought about it, it _did_ look a bit pathetic.

**\- san**

  
**\- san**   
_i've sent you 2/3 of the selfies i have on my phone lol_

**\- woo🥰**   
_ok 1) you're gorgeous, very very gorgeous_   
_& 2) wtf do you mean you only _ _have_ _3 selfies_

**\- woo🥰**   
_like hellooo, your phone deserves to be blessed by your dazzling face_

**\- san**   
_i dont think my phone needs that_

**\- woo🥰**   
_okay, next on the_ _sanyoung_ _agenda_   
_i help you gain more confidence in yourself_

**\- san**   
_sanyoung_ _???_

**\- woo🥰**   
_our ship name_

San's heart skipped a beat. What the hell was Wooyoung going on about?

**\- san**   
_no 🤢_

**\- woo🥰**   
_okay, i'm making you worse._   
_where did my nice, innocent san go?_

San laughed, typing in his next message.

**\- san**   
_i'm just kidding. i dont mind the name_   
_buuut_ _i have a better one_

**\- woo🥰**   
_what?_

**\- san**   
_loud boy x san_

**\- woo🥰**   
_*_ _sanyoung_

**\- san**   
_whatever_

**\- san**   
_and are u good?_

**\- woo🥰**   
_yeah,_ _whyd_ _you ask_

**\- san**   
_because i care about you_

**\- woo🥰**   
_i would reply with an intelligent, well thought out answer, but i'm too busy blushing._   
_you're the only one who can do that to me_

Now it was _San's_ turn to blush.

**\- san**   
_stopp_   
_and what do you have planned to make me_ _'gain_ _more confidence in_ _myself'_ _?_

**\- woo🥰**   
_shh_   
_its a_ _secrett_

* * *

  
Unlike Monday and Tuesday, Wednesday was filled with pale blue skies and a peeping Sun hidden behind thin, disappearing clouds. It didn't look like it was going to rain anytime soon, and San felt his mood elevate. Today, he felt, was gonna be a good day.

"You're going out with Wooyoung, right?" Seonghwa asked from where he sat cross-legged with his laptop on the loveseat. He was still home because his morning classes in graphic design had been cancelled.

"Yes," San shyly muttered, pulling on his peach hoodie's drawstrings. He'd remembered Wooyoung's passing comment many nights ago about how the colour peach suited him, and now that specific hoodie ended up being one of his favourites.

"...Hey," Seonghwa began, causing San to look at him. "I don't wanna make it seem like I'm intruding, _but_ , are you two..." The blond trailed off and stopped talking, but San could almost _hear_ what he wanted to ask.

San told himself that Seonghwa wouldn't react badly if he knew about him and Wooyoung's relationship. Seonghwa was his cousin, and the guy wasn't like his parents who ignored him and never wanted to see his face again. No, Seonghwa was different. He'd stayed with San through it all despite his parents' disapproval. He was _a_ _good person_.

So, San nodded. "Yeah. We... we're _together_."

Seonghwa grinned and clapped excitedly, causing the younger to look away in order to hide the blush on his face. " _Really_?"

"Yeah."

"That's good news!" Seonghwa exclaimed. In a few seconds he was right next to San, ruffling his hair like an older brother would. "I can't believe my little cousin finally got himself a _boyfriend~_ "

San was unamused, his ears burning up. "Hwa! My hair -- "

"I can see you're all grown up now. Tell me, who confessed first? Did you two kiss already? God, _tell me_ you guys didn't do _other things_ when you went to his house."

San wanted to crawl in a hole and _die_ there. "We didn't _do_ anything!"

"But did you two kiss? I feel like Wooyoung probably kissed you first -- "

"Wooyoung just texted me now and said he's coming to the door," San interrupted because yes, Wooyoung _did_ kiss him first, but his cousin definitely did _not_ need to know that.

"You don't even have your phone in your hand."

As if on cue, the doorbell rang. And before Seonghwa could march there and interrogate Wooyoung himself, San grabbed his phone and wallet and rushed out of there.

"I want to know everything you did when you return home!" Seonghwa called out from the doorway, bringing about a confused brow lift from an impeccably dressed Wooyoung.

"Hyung?" Wooyoung waved at him, "what are you talking about?"

As soon as Seonghwa prepared to speak, San began pulling Wooyoung by his wrist down the sidewalk.

"Uh, what's going on?" Wooyoung questioned San once they were far enough from his house. He was dressed in a white shirt, black jeans and a designer-brand green bomber jacket, as well as that same skull necklace that glinted off his smooth tan skin.

San rubbed his nose, _another_ nervous habit he had. "I told Seonghwa we're dating."

Wooyoung blew out a breath and sunk his hands into his pockets. "Okay. Is he like, cool with it?"

San quickly nodded. "Of course. He's dating a guy as well."

"Really? Who?"

"Someone named Kim Hongjoong. He's studying in Japan, so they're doing that whole long-distance thing."

Wooyoung let his fingers brush against San's. "...Would we survive that?"

San looked up then, exchanging eye contact with the boy next to him. "Survive what?"

"A long distance relationship. If you and I suddenly happened to end up in different places, would you still be mine?"

San observed the minimal clouds floating about in the sky, a weight settling on his chest. The thought of him and Wooyoung being separated didn't sit right with him at all. Even when he thought about it, it still _hurt_ , so San couldn't _imagine_ what he'd go through if something like that actually happened.

"I'll be yours." He softly smiled at Wooyoung, uncaring for the people that walked past them. How could he when he had someone like the younger right there with him? "I mean it. You'd have to get rid of me first."

"You'll still stay by my side even when I act annoying or drop unexpected info on you at random times?"

San laughed, a bit baffled by the younger's words. "Uh... _yeah_?"

With that, Wooyoung grinned and hooked arms with him. " _Sweet_!"

_* * *_

  
Wooyoung was, in simple terms, a shopping _maniac_. As soon as he and San entered the city's largest mall, he started pulling them into a bunch of clothing stores, shifting through the hats, the tops and the pants with so much speed that San became a bit overwhelmed. The younger looked like he was in his element, his shopaholic side one San had never seen before until today.

"Hey, Woo -- " San said as he followed after the younger. He had two shopping bags in hand containing clothes from two high-end brands called _Burberry_ and _Armani_ respectively _,_ so San was _pretty sure_ those clothes in his hands were expensive as hell. "Wooyoung, _oh my god_ \-- I think this is already enough. I don't want you to spend so much money on me."

Wooyoung twirled around to face San, lowering his shades in order to look at him properly. " _Relaxx_ , angel. I barely use the card anyway, but I _really_ wanna get you some new stuff. And -- _yes_!" He clapped, "we should go get some _shoooeess_!"

San was never one to care about shoes, but here he was, getting increasingly more entertained and flattered as Wooyoung made him try whatever shoe that caught his eye, even when he had to stop Wooyoung a couple of times from going overboard. Both teens even got matching sneakers at the Nike store.

"How do you feel about jewelry and stuff?" Wooyoung asked San once they stepped out of the latest store after the older had to convince him several times _not_ to buy those thousand dollar pair of shoes he'd thought would've looked _dashing_ on San.

"I like them, _but_ I really think what you've bought me so far is enough. I'm okay with just them and I'm thankful you bought them for me," San answered. "You should get more things for yourself, but _please_ don't overspend."

"Oh, San," Wooyoung grinned at him, showing off his dimple, "of course I'm getting _something_ out of this."

San didn't like how Wooyoung's eyes painstakingly observed him from top to bottom -- but at the same time, he _did_. The younger was clearly, _obviously_ checking him out, and it made his heart go _crazy_.

"You're gross," San huffed, before walking off. Wooyoung laughed and ran behind him, his free hand hiking under San's hoodie and teasingly gripping the skin of his waist.

"And you're fucking _sexy_ ," Wooyoung replied. San could only hope no one was watching them.

Just as soon as Wooyoung muttered those words that coated San's cheeks in pink, his eyes picked up on the store they were nearing. Immediately his eyes shone with childlike excitement. " _Oooh_. We should _totally_ get matching necklaces."

And that was what they did. San especially _loved_ these particular silver lockets that seemed to sparkle and glint under the soft lights of _Swarovski_ with no end.

That is, until he saw the price.

But Wooyoung still bought a pair of them anyway.

"We can store those pictures I took of us on our boyfriend day in it," Wooyoung told San as they walked past the other jewelry stores.

"No," San shook his head just to be a tease, but to be honest he wouldn't have minded that. Literally, his heart _anticipated_ the moment he and Wooyoung would wear those matching lockets they bought. "We should get Seonghwa hyung, Mingi and Yunho something too."

"Of course. Your cousin's cool. Mingi's a good guy, and plus Yunho's birthday in three days so I wanna buy that idiot something _expensive~_ "

San smiled, patting the younger's head. "You're a good kid. Just don't go overboard."

" _Kid_?!"

"You called me the _same thing_ earlier!"

" _No, I didn't_."

San pretended to glare at him with squinted eyes and flared nostrils, and Wooyoung couldn't hold in his laughter any longer. San too joined only moments later, happy that today had turned out really great.

"We're getting your hair done after we get some stuff for Seonghwa, Yunho and Mingi," Wooyoung said a second later.

San blinked, taking a step back. "What?"

"Remember when we'd betted on Yunho and Mingi being together and I won?" Wooyoung noticed the look of realization dawn on San's face. "... _Yeah_. You remember now, right?"

San sighed. "I like my hair the way it is."

"I like it too... But you gotta step out of your comfort zone, San. I know you use your hair as a way to hide your face, but I want you to be more confident in yourself," Wooyoung told him. "Hell, I'll even _dye_ my hair whatever colour you want if you agree. I don't care about my parents' opinions anymore."

"I...I don't know about this."

" _Pwease_ , Sannie?" Wooyoung puffed up his face like a kid's. "It'll be _fun_."

_* * *_

  
San almost tripped off his own two feet when an excited Nina flung her arms around him. He and Wooyoung had just entered this hair salon with a commendable size and a polished interior after they were done shopping and eating the food San had stubbornly decided to pay for.

"San!" She cheered, looking genuinely happy to see him there. The other stylists gave both boys short, polite greetings before going back to what they'd been doing. "Woah, I missed you. What was Wooyoung doing with you all this time? Locking you up in a dungeon or something?"

Wooyoung stuck his tongue out at her before entering a seperate room altogether with their shopping bags, which let San know he'd probably frequented this place quite often.

"Hi Nina," San smiled, realizing she had silvery, grey hair now and bold red lipstick. It suited her. "Uhm, Wooyoung wanted me to do my hair."

"Ooh," Nina beamed. "Luckily for _you_ , I happen to know a thing or two about hair styling. Wanna get it trimmed and dyed?"

"Uh," San picked at his nails, " _maybe_? I don't know what colour would suit me though."

Nina hummed and stroked her chin, examining the state of San's hair. "What's your fave colour?"

"I don't really have one..."

"Pink or purple," the older girl suddenly inquired, her eyes still on San's hair.

San chewed on his lip, seeing that Wooyoung still hadn't come out yet. "Um, purple...?"

Nina grinned, snapping her fingers. "I wholeheartedly agree."

Nina turned out to be telling the truth, because she _was_ good at styling hair. For the entire time she worked on his hair, San had been torn between mourning the loss of his locks and marvelling at how _pretty_ his remaining hair was beginning to look.

"Wooyoung told me he's waiting inside until you're done because he doesn't want to ruin the surprise," Nina told him as she begun dyeing his hair a light shade of purple. "Isn't that cute?"

 _It_ _was_ , San thought, grinning to himself. He really couldn't wait to see the final result and _especially_ Wooyoung's reaction to it.

Around an hour later, Nina was done. And when San viewed himself through the mirror, for the first time ever his initial reaction wasn't disdain or disgust. No, he actually _didn't mind_ what he saw.

His hair was a lovely, fairy-like periwinkle and looked about as soft as cotton. San wanted to run his fingers through it.

"Wow, you look all _soft and cuddly,_ " Nina complimented, causing San's cheeks to almost turn the same shade as his hair. She looked proud of herself.

"Thank you."

"No need to thank me. You still need to pay up."

"Oh, okay..."

"I'm just kidding. I'll make it free since I'm friends with you guys." Nina turned her head, nodding at someone behind her. San felt his body stiffen up when he realized who it was. "Wooyoung! Come see San's new hair."

Oh, Wooyoung _did_ see his hair, alright. In fact, he couldn't _stop_ looking at it, couldn't stop looking at _San_. When Yeosang and Jongho arrived with their car, when both teens left the salon, when they settled the shopping bags at the back, when Yeosang and Jongho complimented San's hair, Wooyoung continued to watch him like he was heaven on earth.

And San loved it. _God_ he did.

But as the two boys were about to enter the car, a black Bentley slowly drove past, its windows rolled down. San looked away when the long haired woman driving it locked eyes with him, quickly entering Jongho's car without much thought.

Wooyoung, on the other hand, looked like he'd seen a ghost. Immediately he entered the car as well and shut it, running his hands through his hair in frustrated strokes.

"What's wrong?" San asked him. He didn't like how agitated Wooyoung looked.

"That woman that just passed us," the younger sighed, "she's my mom."


	33. little reaper

_brief_ _mentions of physical abuse_ _, description of murder_ _, homophobia_ _, suicide threat_

* * *

  
Dinner at the Jung's was quiet and rather uneventful, but something in Wooyoung knew that it was only the calm before the storm. Yebin wasn't around -- she was still at her college, and his father barely uttered a word before he'd excused himself.

Even with the silence, Wooyoung's body was tense. Especially when he could feel his mother's eyes on him. He _knew_ she'd seen him with his friends, with _San_ , so before she could bring up the topic or try to infiltrate his mind with her unneeded negativity, Wooyoung promptly pushed his chair to the back and sat up.

"I'm heading to my room." Wooyoung freaking _hated_ his parents and what they stood for, but even with that he still struggled to raise his voice after he'd been violently reprimanded for it as a child. He detested the hold those people had over him and over his actions. He couldn't wait to finally get away from them as soon as the time came.

Mrs Jung reached out to touch Wooyoung's palm. Her manicured, thin hands looked awfully dainty for all the slaps and hits she'd delivered when she'd felt physical abuse did much more wonders than shouting and spewing verbal daggers. Now, she just preferred preying on Wooyoung's insecurities, insulting and tearing him down whenever she could.

Wooyoung, on instinct, recoiled his hand. He wanted to walk away from his mother, wanted her to stop looking at him like he was some bad, wounded _dog_ that she wanted to help get back up on its feet.

"Sit down please, son," his mother spoke, her familiar velvet-like voice low and persuasive. She tried to sound like she was pleading, but her voice came out all manipulative and forceful. She was like contaminated honey, her exterior sweet and comforting until she drowned you in all her toxins. So many times had a young and naive Wooyoung wished that they'd shared a moment like this -- a moment where his mother would actually _look_ at him like a mom, hold him close and protect him from all the bad things in the world. Of course Wooyoung knew his father was nothing but a lost cause since the beginning, but he'd longed for his mother to see him as her son for once.

Wooyoung hadn't even asked for her love, just her _acceptance_. But it never came.

And now, as she stared at him through her stupid insincere motherly eyes, all he could think was _fake_. His mother was fake. _Everything_ was fake.

Wooyoung's jaw clenched, wanting so badly to grab his dinner plate and smash it against the ground. Maybe _then_ she'd look at him as something else other than an inconvenience. _Fear_ even seemed like a better option.

"I need to do some homework," Wooyoung forced out, hoping his lie would slip through the cracks.

"Sit _down_ ," his mother said again. Like a jaded chameleon, her true colours were seeping out. Her smile was gone (like it's presence actually made a difference), her eyes dark and hungry to ruin.

Wooyoung and Yebin had inherited most of their features from her, and at that moment Wooyoung had never hated his face so much. When he looked at his mother, at her narrowed eyes and the disgruntled, disgusted downward pull of her lips, he wondered if that was how he appeared to others when he was in a bad or irritable mood. Maybe that was why people assumed him to be a hateful and judgemental character even from the start. _He'd gotten it all from her_.

Wooyoung sat, tapping his finger on the clothed table in a mismatched rhythm that perfectly described his heartbeat at that very second.

"I saw you out with your friends this late afternoon," Mrs Jung began, spitting out the ' _friends_ ' like it made her sick.

 _What? What do you want? What do you fucking want from me?_ Wooyoung inhaled a haggard breath. "...Yeah."

"Look at me, son. I want to see your face while I'm talking," his mother sternly requested.

Wooyoung looked up then, before jumping on the table and kicking off all the plates and utensils in a raging, maddened stupor. After that he reached out and violently grabbed his mother by the hair and dragged her across the floor, flinging her to the wall with enough strength that made all her bones snap. And as she bled out, her soul slowly leaving her body, Wooyoung bent his knees and gave her a cruel smile, before doing her the honours and finally taking her out of her misery.

"...oung...Wooyoung... _Wooyoung_!"

Wooyoung slowly blinked, and there he was again, in front of his frowning mother. Her face was still intact with no blood present, unless her half-done medium-rare steak counted.

His mother's face darkened. "Don't tell me you zoned out while I was talking to you."

Wooyoung commenced the tapping of his fingers. "Sorry."

A brief moment of silence passed, filled with Mrs Jung disappointedly watching her son. But then she must've felt that Wooyoung didn't give a shit about her stares anymore, because she decided to speak up.

"That boy you were with..." Wooyoung felt his heartbeat pick up. "The one with bright purple hair. Is he a homosexual?"

Wooyoung's fingers stopped tapping. He didn't like the way that woman talked about San with such disdain. "Hair doesn't make anyone straight or gay -- "

"Answer the question, Wooyoung," his mother snapped.

Wooyoung nonchalantly shrugged, willing himself to think about San in order not to fucking _flip out_. "I dunno."

Mrs Jung released an exasperated sigh. "Are you two friends?"

Wooyoung kept his expression neutral, one he'd perfected because he'd learnt long ago that people like his parents solely existed just to pounce and feed on any and all weaknesses. _Family_ didn't matter to them. "...We talk sometimes, yeah."

"Then you should know if he's one of those barbaric homosexuals," his mother replied. "And he sure _looks_ like one, too."

Wooyoung couldn't take it anymore -- _he snapped_. "How the hell does homosexuality have a ' _look_ '? I'm sorry, but why the absolute _fuck_ are we even talking about this right now? People's sexuality is none of our fucking business to begin with, but here you are acting like I can't hang out with guy friends again!"

"Stop talking!" His mother shrieked, but Wooyoung was already on his feet, pushing against his chair with added force. "Sit your ass back down Wooyoung, or _heaven forbid_ I make you regret ever talking back to me."

"You don't _own_ me!" Wooyoung exclaimed, his mental pain taking an immense toll on him. He grabbed a glass cup and flew it towards the ground, the harsh sound battling with the chaotic instability of his mind. "You don't fucking own me. _Nobody does_! You don't get to tell me what I _can_ and _cannot_ do!" He grabbed a plate and did the same thing he did with the cup by smashing and scattering it over the tiled floors.

Mrs Jung had already stood up, staring at him with such _hatred_ that would've made young Wooyoung falter. But Wooyoung wasn't a child anymore.

"What is the meaning of this?!" His father's loud voice bellowed from the hallway. Wooyoung immediately snatched the small knife on the table.

"Of course, when I was in preschool or w-whatever," Wooyoung continued to speak. His hand shook, holding on to the knife so tight his knuckles turned pale, "I played around a lot with the girls, and they liked hanging out with me too. But you know what you _said_ , mom?" Wooyoung's teeth clattered, an intense headache pounding in his head. "You told me to stay away from them, _because_ that'd make me _gay_. And I fucking _believed_ you."

His mother continued to stare at him apathetically, like she didn't even care.

"Wooyoung! What is this mess!" His father shouted, only for shock to fall over his face when Wooyoung pointed the knife at him.

"Don't _fucking_ come close," Wooyoung spat through gritted teeth. His nose felt stuffed, his eyes sore and red with anger. "I'm warning you." _I fucking hate you both. So, so much. You both could fall down and die and I wouldn't give a flying fuck_.

"Drop that knife right now and we'll think about lessening your punishment," Mr Jung threatened.

Wooyoung angled the knife right above his own heart, hoping for _something_. For what? His parents to react? His mother to care? Love and compassion from the both of them? Wooyoung didn't know. He didn't know what he wanted anymore.

His father took a purposeful step forward, only for Wooyoung to press that knife against his skin.

"Come close and I'll do it," he declared, "I'll get rid of myself just like you both wanted." He spared a glance at his mother, but she wasn't even looking his way anymore.

 _A disgrace; that's what you always were to her_. _That's what you always will be._

Wooyoung's distraction led to his father finally getting a hold of him. He struggled, _god_ he struggled against the man's heavy grip, but it was no use. His father was more powerful than him.

And as Wooyoung was led away by his father, probably to receive his punishment by getting his phone confiscated, getting kicked out of the house again or even being forcefully put into therapy, he remembered his mother's passing words that would undoubtedly imprint themselves over his heart and scar it for all of eternity.

 _Doyoung_ _should've lived instead of you_.

* * *

  
Early the next morning as he made his way to the livingroom, San absentmindedly played around with the beautiful heart locket that loosely hung around his neck. As soon as he'd gotten home yesterday and was freed from Seonghwa's excited questions about his new hair colour and where he got all those shopping bags from, he'd immediately hopped into the bathroom and tried on the locket, unable to contain his happiness.

He'd wondered if Wooyoung had tried on his own even though their lockets were still absent of any pictures, but when he'd texted the younger about it, he never replied.

This morning as well after San woke up, he'd wished Wooyoung a good morning but the younger male didn't respond, or even _read_ the message.

"Had a good night's sleep?" Seonghwa questioned from the kitchen. He was taking a sip of coffee from a _World's best Cousin_ mug, one of the things San had picked for him yesterday.

"Mhm," San hummed, fiddling with the locket as he took a seat by the dining table. "It's just... I dunno. Wooyoung didn't reply to the texts I sent him earlier.

" _Oh,_ " Seonghwa settled the mug on the table, before pulling out a seat in front of San for himself. "Well, Wooyoung messaged me an hour ago."

San's head perked up. "What? Really?" Confusion outweighed every other emotion he felt, because if Wooyoung could communicate with Seonghwa, why did he ignore San?

Seonghwa nodded. "He said he doesn't think he'll be able to go to school today, and that I should proceed with the plan if he doesn't show up anytime soon."

San paused and blinked, unable to comprehend what was going on. He became even more disoriented when his cousin stretched his hands over the table to cup his own pair. "...What plan?"

"Wooyoung..." Seonghwa muttered, "he found out about something pertaining to you. About what you _have_. And although I didn't want to tell you before because your wellbeing is of utmost importance to me, I realized that you had to know because there _is_ a chance of getting better."

San didn't like the look on Seonghwa's face. Despite his hopeful words, his cousin's eyes held deep reluctance. Like he didn't want to say his next words. "Hyung, what is going on? What did Wooyoung find out about?"

Seonghwa pursed his lip.

" _Hwa_ _,_ " San pressed.

"Choi Daehwan, our grandfather, is the man who made the website about what caused your bleeding," Seonghwa began, watching as San reverted into stunned silence. "You know how hard your parents had tried to have a baby, and when they suddenly met with him in October, you were conceived a few weeks later.

"My parents told me about it when I was younger," Seonghwa continued. "Everyone in town knew about how our grandfather liked to dabble in the supernatural, and so when you were conceived, people... people started to speculate."

San's hands were trembling, but he tried to make them stop by tightly fisting them. Yes, he remembered those heartfelt memories of his mother holding him close and whispering into his hair about how much of a _miracle_ he was, since he was her first child. He remembered them well, but now those treasured memories gradually began getting crushed into burnt, dusty remnants of themselves. In his head, his mother no longer regarded him as her little miracle, but as an attempt that turned out to work.

"San..." Seonghwa said, his tone sympathetic.

San shook his head. "I-I'm okay. Just -- how can I get it fixed? How do I get _myself_ fixed?"

San tried not to let Seonghwa's words get to him, he _really_ did. But the damage had already been done, and everything he tried so desperately to forget came crashing down on him all at once.

' _Gwangju's_ _little_ _Reaper_ ', they'd wickedly named him. All those kids in his childhood city did. The troublesome ones at his middle school would run down the hallways whenever he'd appear, shouting at the top of their lungs about how he'd _hurt_ them if he got too close to them, just like how he'd done to his parents.

Yunho'd lived in the same neighbourhood as him when they were kids, now that San thought about it. They'd never talked though, but even if they had, the rumours circulating San would've scared him off in no time.

" _San_!" Seonghwa's voice forced itself into San's head before the younger's detrimental thoughts could drown him whole. "San..." He tried again, his voice thick with worry. "I shouldn't have said anything, I'm sorry. Oh God, I'm so sorry."

San's fingers found the locket around his neck again and shut his eyes. _Yes, just take a deep breath and calm down. You heard Wooyoung, right? He said he won't leave again. He cares for you. He'll be there for you, and he's safe. Everyone's safe. Everything will be fine. Everything is fine_.

Once San felt a bit better, he met Seonghwa's eyes from across the table. "When can we meet him?"

_* * *_

  
Choi San was tired. Tired of being scared, tired of those fucking boundaries he'd put in place for himself. He was tired of being careful, hesitating, waiting, _losing_. He was sick of feeling like a slave to his feelings and thoughts, because it genuinely and honestly _sucked_. For once, San wanted complete and utter control over what he did. He _needed_ it.

So, instead of going to school that day, he decided to have a change of plans and head over to Wooyoung's house instead.

San felt a little bit of guilt about skipping school, but the feeling didn't last long. Once he arrived close to the driveway of Wooyoung's daunting house, he took out his phone and quickly dialed the younger's number. He truly hoped he'd pick up.

"... _Hello_?"

San's heart rate spiked. " _Woo_? Are you -- is that you?"

The line was silent, before a slow " _Yeah_ " was whispered.

"Are you okay?" San asked, glancing at the younger's house, that same place they'd celebrated becoming boyfriends for the first time. But now, for some reason, the building looked cold and hollow.

Wooyoung quietly chuckled. "... _No? Yes? Maybe_?"

San rubbed his neck in thought. Wooyoung didn't sound like himself. "Are you really okay? Please Woo, tell me the truth."

With that, Wooyoung sighed. " _Okay. I'm not fine, but I'm alright. I feel...neutral_." He then hesitated. " _Why did you call_?"

San's heart felt like someone had just squeezed it. He _knew_ the younger was just asking a harmless question, but his body decided to be all anxious about it. "Seonghwa... He told me about what you'd found out, and heck, I don't even know how to feel about the discovery."

Wooyoung sniffled, but then tried to make it seem as though he didn't, which San caught on to pretty quickly. " _Are you mad at me for looking into it_?"

" _No_. Of course not," San shook his head, inhaling a huge breath. "How can I be mad at you when I'm wearing the locket you bought for me right now?"

" _You're really wearing the locket_?" Wooyoung asked, his voice worryingly rough and scratchy.

San smiled. "Yeah. I'm in love with it."

" _What about me, huh_?" Wooyoung joked, sniffling again. " _Don't you love me?_ "

"I..." San's cheeks heated up. "I do. I love you."

Wooyoung didn't reply, but that didn't seem to matter when a few minutes later he was walking out of the house, surprising the older boy. He was donned in a loose white top with pyjama pants, and San would've thought the ensemble cute if it wasn't for the state of Wooyoung's face.

The younger's face wasn't bruised, but his eyes were bloodshot and held a pain so candid and _raw_ it took San aback.

"Hi, San. I had a feeling you'd be there," Wooyoung mumbled, softly nudging the older's arm. He had on his locket, too. "I probably look like shit right now, but I'm really glad you're here. Trust me."

"Woo..." San took a step closer. "What...what happened to you?"

Wooyoung wrapped his arms around him, slightly swaying them around. "Some stuff happened last night. I'm _kinda_ grounded, but it should be all fine in a couple of days."

San's jaw clenched with the hatred he had for Wooyoung's family. Instinctively, he held the younger boy closer to him and kissed his hair. " _Fuck_ \-- they can't _keep_ doing this to you."

"I'm used to it." Wooyoung lowly chuckled, the sound vibrating against San's chest. "I mean, I'll get through it until I can leave those fuckers once and for all. But I'm _tired_. So tired of everything."

"I'm so sorry," San whispered. Wooyoung just nodded, breathing him deep as if he was committing his scent to memory.

" _I love you, Choi San,_ " Wooyoung uttered into the crevice of San's neck. His words sent the older's heart pulsating with warmth, but there was also this agony that came along with it. It punctured his heart and made him want to _cry_. "Don't you ever forget that, alright?"

"I love you too, Jung Wooyoung," San answered. He shut his eyes as his and Wooyoung's lips met, moulding together and fitting just right -- like they were made for no one else but each other.

It only took a couple seconds for San to notice the tears rolling down Wooyoung's cheeks.

"Woo..." he whispered, holding the younger's face in his hands. His chest felt so heavy and he didn't know why. "Why are you crying, my love? D-Did I do something wrong?"

Wooyoung wiped his face and shook his head. His skin was flushed and felt hot to the touch, and his eyes kept forming new tears. "No. But I wished I'd realized everything sooner. I-I wish I'd spent more time with you, with Yunho and Mingi, with Seonghwa. I wish I hadn't been such a coward at first and accepted my feelings for you as soon as I could."

" _No_ ," San hugged him tight again. "What are you talking about, Woo? W-We have all the time in the world now. When all this is over, _everything_ will be fine. We'll -- we'll go out on dates, hold each other's hands and kiss whenever we want. N-No one would tell us what to do with our lives..."

Wooyoung sobbed into San's chest, and it hurt San. The younger's broken wails ripped through his heart and sank him further and further into the depths of despair.

"Woo," San begged, running his fingers down Wooyoung's hair affectionately. "Please, _please_ tell me what's wrong. Y-You're hurting me like this, you know?"

"I can't wait to see you again," was what Wooyoung chose to reply with instead, his cryptic words stabbing San's heart with confusion and continuous pain.

San gulped when Wooyoung's gaze met his, and all of a sudden they were in that same class many lunchtimes ago, staring at each other and conversing for the first time. Wooyoung's eyes had always been expressive, and now that fact was more prevalent than ever.

Wooyoung looked sad. _Devastated_.

"When will you come back to school?" San questioned, the lump lodged in his throat making it difficult to enunciate properly.

"Whenever I can." Wooyoung smiled, but it did nothing to reassure San. The younger's eyes held so much _misery_ , it was frightening.

San didn't know what prompted him to utter his next words, but he still did anyway. "Call me anytime, whenever you like. I'll always pick up. You aren't alone, because you have _me._ You'll always have me. And you have Yunho, Mingi, Seonghwa, Nina, Jongho and Yeosang. Whoever you wanna talk to, you _can_. Just remember that, okay?"

Wooyoung nodded. "...Okay."


	34. jung wooyoung, san's eternal love

_mentions of attempted_ _suicide_

_* * *_

  
Days passed. It felt like an _eternity_ , seeming to last until the end of time. The more days that passed, the more hours, minutes, seconds that Wooyoung wasn't at school and barely messaged or called San, Mingi and Yunho, the more the denseness in San's chest increased. Each day of Wooyoung's absence ate away at his heart until it became physically tasking to smile, crack jokes, or even _talk_ to the people around him. There was no way he could've done that when the boy he so dearly loved was basically stuck at home because of his shitty parents.

It sucked. It felt like everything was against them, and once again San was stuck in motion, forced to _wait_ again and be patient for something he wasn't even sure he'd gain in the end. He had no idea what to do and how to react, because the one person that actually brought out the real him was nowhere to be seen.

Waking up was difficult, eating, sleeping -- _everything_. Even Seonghwa wasn't able to get him out of the mental quicksand he'd sunk himself in, because Wooyoung _wasn't_ there. And there was nothing he could about it but to wish for the best outcome.

"I can't believe Wooyoung still hasn't returned to school," Mingi said that Friday morning during study hall. Him, Yunho and San had happened to all have free periods then, so they'd gathered together at the same rounded table. "I mean, what gives?"

Yunho looked the least bothered amongst them, but even then his mature set of eyes held deep-rooted frustration. "It's not the first time this has happened. It'll pass."

His words were meant to assure the other two males (especially San, because it was as _clear_ as day that he looked the most affected by Wooyoung's disappearance), but they just didn't feel right. There was _something_ in the atomosphere that prevented the lilac-haired male from allowing himself to _believe_ Yunho, but he tried to ignore it, tried to blame it on the bipolar weather and how windy and turbulent the skies had looked all week.

"You think his parents would allow him to come over tomorrow?" Mingi asked again. He kept twirling about the black-inked pen in his fingers, a tell-tale sign that he was just as anxious as San was for Wooyoung's return.

"I don't know about tomorrow. Maybe Monday? Probably." Yunho sighed, biting his lip in thought while Mingi's arm brushed against his as a sign of comfort. Lately, it seemed as though both males had gotten a _lot_ closer, from always walking side by side to class, to laughing at each other's jokes and just seeming to genuinely enjoy each other's company. And San was happy for them, he really was, but their soft interactions just made him miss Wooyoung a lot more.

 _I love you, Choi San_. Wooyoung's despondent words vibrated through his mind like an echo until he could think about nothing else. San felt himself touching the locket hidden inside the confines of his school shirt. The thin silver pendant was cold to the touch, but sent sparks thrumming beneath his skin.

 _I love you, Choi San. Don't you ever forget that_. Right then, San felt like he was _home_ , because he could feel Wooyoung's presence in the locket. Could feel it in the lingering kisses they'd shared, their hands entwined and breaths syncing. Wooyoung was there in the grim skies, the calm sway of the trees and in every pulse that made up San's heartbeat. And soon enough, San hoped, he'd be there _in person_ , because that was what they'd promised each other.

Before San could leave school after all his classes were done for the day, blood cascaded down his nose, and as he result he'd had to rush to the bathroom. Tumultuous thunder roared and clashed in the heavens, mixing in with the excessive buzzing in his ears as he bled again and again.

_* * *_

  
When Saturday arrived, which also happened to be Yunho's eighteenth birthday, Mingi'd gotten this sweet idea of hosting a small get-together at his place today as a way to _properly_ celebrate the taller's birthday.

Mingi's family was extremely eager to comply, setting up a bunch of decorations to beautify the place, as well as preparing food that looked a bit _too_ much for such a small amount of people. But their benevolent actions were still appreciated all the same.

San could tell Yunho was thankful for what Mingi and his family had done for him. Their gesture probably meant a lot more to him than San could've ever imagined, and it brought a smile to his face.

As San blew some more colourful balloons with Dabin, he found himself longing for Wooyoung's presence yet again. He wished the younger was there with him, celebrating this thoughtful birthday of one of his closest friends with him. He wondered what Wooyoung was doing, if he was eating and sleeping well, and if things had already cooled down between him and his parents.

Hell, the thought of the people who put Wooyoung in this position frustrated and angered San to no end. His jaw clenched, but he willed himself to remain calm and try and enjoy the party, no matter how hard it'd turn out to be. Soon, it would all be over, and Wooyoung would be back in his arms.

After handing Yunho his gift (which happened to be the one Wooyoung had bought for him on Wednesday), San spent the next hour eating, nodding along to the relaxing music playing from the bluetooth speakers, and laughing as he played entertaining videogames with Mingi and his family. Turned out they all liked, _and_ excelled at them.

At that point in time, San actually felt _okay_. Mingi's family treated him like one of their own, and he'd never seen Yunho and Mingi smile so much. Sure, everything would've been much more _perfect_ if Wooyoung had been there, but things weren't so bad.

Or so he'd thought.

As he was completing a huge puzzle set with Dabin and Yunho, the tallest's phone suddenly rang, alerting San's attention almost immediately. At first, he'd assumed it to be the usual phonecall. Maybe one from his parents, from his other friends or something. But Yunho's eyes enlargened ever so slightly, like he couldn't believe who'd rung him up.

"...Something the matter?" San found himself asking. He'd had little to no trouble talking to the blue haired male now, mostly because the taller's attitude had softened considerably towards him. It made San happy, because now he'd found a good friend in Yunho.

"Yeah," Dabin's high-pitched voice repeated. "Something the matter?"

Yunho stood up, before promptly picking up the call. "Wooyoung's father," he whispered to San.

San shot up as well. He couldn't help the way his heart began to beat rapidly. "Wooyoung's father?"

Yunho was silent for a while, but it didn't take long for his shoulders to stiffen. His posture grew more terse, and the hand holding the phone began to shake.

"Yunho?" It was Mingi who spoke this time. "What's going on?"

Yunho quickly shoved his phone into his pocket, before rushing towards Mingi's dad. "Sir, can you please drive me somewhere?"

Panic gushed through San's veins, because Yunho's face screamed impatience and alarm. He looked _scared_.

"Yunho, what's going on?" Mingi asked once more, placing a gentle hand on the taller's shoulder. But even with that, Yunho's body still drastically trembled.

"Wooyoung's dad said they can't find him _anywhere_. They -- " Yunho gulped, "they looked everywhere for him, but it's like he just _disappeared_."

"W-What?" San let out, his nails digging so deep into his skin he was sure it'd bleed. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

  
" _Please_ ," Yunho pleaded. His expression was one San had never seen before on him, but he'd recognized it. He'd had the same face after he'd woken up at the hospital and saw the death of his parents broadcasted on the news. "Please... I think I know where he went, but we _really_ need to hurry."

* * *

  
San didn't know where he'd expected Yunho to bring them, but he'd never expected it to be at a _beach_. The place was empty, the skies overcast with rain that was probably going to swallow the earth very soon.

It gave San an eerie, disgruntled sort of feeling. His heart raced even _more_ inside his ribcage, because he really hoped Wooyoung wasn't anywhere _near_ this place.

Yunho didn't waste time in opening the door, and soon after San followed him with Mingi tailing behind them. The three males scoured the area with their eyes, trying to properly see through the fogginess and dark shadows.

 _Fuck_ , San inwardly cursed. He didn't want Wooyoung to be anywhere here, and as they continued to look around, their feet forming soggy footsteps over the grainy sand, he felt himself grow more and more discouraged.

"How...how are you so sure Wooyoung's around here?" Mingi questioned Yunho for the both of them, which San was thankful for. His throat felt too sore and his tongue too heavy to say anything right now. He was just so goddamn worried.

Yunho whipped his head around, the blue of his hair turning a dull cyan in their faded surroundings. "...He tried to drown himself here once, but then started frequenting this beach whenever he could. But I was always with him when he did."

San screwed his eyes shut as Yunho continued to shout Wooyoung's name. He felt like sinking, letting his knees dissolve into the sand before it eventually eats him whole, because he really couldn't do this right now.

 _Just focus_ , his mind commanded him then. _Focus and find Wooyoung before anything bad happens to him!_

As thunder bellowed and roared through the skies, a lone streak of lightning zipping past, San spotted a silhouette in the distance aimlessly drifting along the forceful waves of the sea.

In less than a second, San was already sprinting towards the water. Harsh, ice cold wind collided against his face, his lungs burning and the soles of his feet gliding across the freezing lumps of sand, but he didn't mind. He could hear someone shouting -- Yunho, Mingi, someone else? -- but he didn't pay them any attention. He just needed to get into the sea and save Wooyoung.

San could see the younger boy more clearly now. Wooyoung had on a white, long-sleeved shirt that dripped with salty water and clung to him. His long hair wasn't bouncy and wavy anymore, but now lifelessly hung around his emotionless face.

San swam deeper into the sea, pushing past the treacherous waves that were colder than anything he'd ever experienced in his seventeen years of being alive. The volatile sea water beat against his face and threatened to pull him under, but he was determined to get to Wooyoung. He _had_ to.

"W-Woo," he choked out as soon as the younger was within arm's reach. San pulled Wooyoung close, his tremouring fingers shifting through the younger's hair in order to see his face more properly. "Woo, p-please. Please answer me."

Wooyoung was unresponsive, drawing out a pained, broken sob from the older. Agony poured itself into his chest and suffocated his aching lungs, and _fuck_ , everything hurt. _Everything fucking hurt_.

Yunho showed up in front of them, but San wasn't looking his way. No, he kept staring at Wooyoung, trying to shake him out of unconsciousness.

"Wake up," he kept begging, even after Yunho had carried Wooyoung's body back to dry land. " _Please_ , Wooyoung. P-Please wake up."

Mingi's father luckily knew CPR, but even with that Wooyoung still took some time to regain his consciousness.

After Mingi dialed the ambulance, help showing up only a couple minutes later, the paramedics pushed a soaked Wooyoung into the van, an oxygen mask strapped to his face.

While all this was happening, San couldn't stop the tears that kept spewing. The younger looked so _small_ and defenseless inside that van, his skin a worrying ivory that exposed the purple of his veins.

"He'll be fine. He'll get treated," Mr Song tried to reassure San, but the purple haired male found it hard to calm his nerves down. Mingi and Yunho entered Mr Song's car deathly silent, unable to voice out anything after the drastic turn of events.

San was passed a spare towel as soon as he entered the backseat of Mr Song's car, which he slowly wrapped around his body. His teeth clattered, his chest bloody cold since he'd been the one who'd stayed the longest in the sea after Wooyoung. He couldn't even _think_ of closing his eyes and succumbing to the exhaustion that had taken over him once Mr Song began trailing after the ambulance that held Wooyoung.

San just needed to know that Wooyoung was okay. There was no doubt about it -- Wooyoung had tried to _end his life_. San would be lying if he said that didn't wound him tremendously. It brought back memories he'd tried his best to repress, and that just saddened him more.

Back then, the thought of Seonghwa had been the one thing that had stopped San from giving up completely, and he found himself wondering if Wooyoung had thought about him too during that fateful moment where he'd balanced on the tightrope between life and death.

San screwed his eyes shut. He knew how Wooyoung had probably felt during those moments more than anyone else. Also knew all about those damned feelings of fatigue and depression that'd leeched off his soul during his first months of recovery. It was a harrowing, terrifying experience, one that San still felt the after-effects of until this point.

He wanted nothing more than for Wooyoung to never experience it, _ever_. He didn't deserve that.

So, as the car neared the hospital, San came to a conclusion that although wasn't pretty, still comforted him in ways he could never describe.

_* * *_

  
San stayed in the waiting room along with Yunho and Mingi while the redhead's father talked to the doctors about Wooyoung and how he was doing.

During all this, Wooyoung's parents were nowhere to be seen yet. San didn't care though, he never wanted to meet them in person and he was sure Wooyoung wouldn't have wanted them there either. In fact, they were probably the people who'd pushed the younger past his breaking point that he'd resorted to doing what he did.

Miraculously, San's phone still worked even when it'd taken a hefty dose of sea water, and so he dialed his cousin's number, the older male picking up in less than five seconds.

" _San_ ," Seonghwa said, his tone rushed and alarmed. " _Oh my god, are you okay? I tried calling you several times but the call wouldn't go through, and then Wooyoung wasn't picking up his phone either._ "

The mention of Wooyoung brought San back to when he'd paddled through the bone-chilling waves of the sea and held an even colder Wooyoung in his arms. A shiver rushed down his spine, and fear gripped his heart once more even when he knew Wooyoung was in safe hands now.

"W-Wooyoung," San whispered, "he'd -- we saved him from drowning and now we're in the hospital."

" _What_?" Seonghwa sounded panicked. " _Oh my god, what happened? How -- how did he end up there?_ "

"He -- he tried to _die_ ," San sniffed, wiping the tears that formed in his eyes with the back of his hand. He felt Mingi right beside him, soothingly rubbing his hand on his back. For once, San didn't mind the gesture.

" _I'm on my way. Tell me where the hospital's located and I promise I'll be there soon_ ," Seonghwa replied, and a bit of relief began to flood San's veins. He was really glad his cousin was coming, it made him feel better about this entire messed up situation.

Fortunately, Wooyoung regained his consciousness soon, and since his parents weren't around yet, the doctor allowed San, Mingi and Yunho inside.

And San, for some reason, felt like he shouldn't have been there even when he had every right to be.

Wooyoung looked tinier than usual on that hospital bed, but most of the colour had returned back to his face. As Yunho sat down next to him and tightly his hands, their eyes communicating words and feelings that only _they_ seemed to know about, San started to feel even more like an intruder.

That was until Wooyoung looked up, his eyes meeting San's across the room. They were still their familiarly round shape, dark and piercing and reflecting off a multitude of bottomless emotions, but those were the eyes San _knew_ , and those were the eyes he loved.

"So...I'm embarrassed," Wooyoung admitted with a chuckle that lacked in humour. He gestured to both Mingi and San, but his eyes -- those suffocatingly beautiful eyes of his -- were trained on San and San alone. "You guys can come _talk_ to me, you know? We're friends."

If it hadn't been for the grim situation and Wooyoung sitting there with an IV drip hooked to his arm, then _maybe_ they would've smiled. Maybe they would've laughed along or something. But that wasn't the case now. Wooyoung's tone was too nonchalant considering that he'd almost committed _suicide_ , and it greatly worried San.

"I'm so glad you're okay." It was Mingi who spoke up first, inching over to Wooyoung's bed. The younger squeezed his arm in gratitude, but the air around them was tense. No one wanted to bring up the elephant in the room.

Wooyoung looked at San again, his eyes flashing with unmistakable guilt and shame. "San, don't do this to me. Please come here and talk to me. I missed you."

San walked up to him, feeling as if his legs would give way the more steps he took. Wooyoung kept looking at him though, kept maintaining their eye contact with a gaze filled with so much fondness it made San want to curl up in a corner and _cry_ like a baby.

San couldn't help himself once he got to Wooyoung. He knelt and ran his thumb over the younger's cheek with so much care, like Wooyoung would've disappeared into thin air if he did any more than that.

But Wooyoung didn't seem to like that. He cupped San's palm in his and kissed it, just like he'd done when they'd kissed for the first time. It brought a fresh wave of emotions crashing down on San, and although he wasn't crying anymore, troublesome tears still stung the corners of his eyes.

"I-I could've _lost you_ today, Woo," San uttered. That appeared to be the thing that hit Wooyoung the furthest, because he leaned back, a silent tear streaming down his cheek.

"I'm sorry," Wooyoung gasped with clenched fists. "I -- I really am."

San shook his head. "N-No. You don't need to apologize. You're alive, and that's all that matters..."

"I can't -- I can't help but _hate_ myself though," Wooyoung inhaled short, unstable breaths. "When I got into the sea, I just... I wanted to go on and on. I-I wanted fucking _drown_ in it so I wouldn't have to open my eyes _ever again_."

Wooyoung's mismatched breathing mixed with the thumping of San's heart. The older entwined their fingers, looking into Wooyoung's eyes that seemed to display every single emotion out there -- all except for _hope_.

"Hey..." San whispered, kissing the younger's tear-stained cheek. It was then he realized Yunho and Mingi weren't present anymore, but it wouldn't have mattered anyway. He would've done the same thing regardless. "It's alright. Everything's alright."

"I _love you_ , San, so why? Why did I want to kill myself?"

"S-Sometimes the thoughts and emotions we feel at certain points in life are completely out of our hands. We just have to find ways to pull through it. We'll be alright, Woo," San replied, wanting to do more than just touch and hug the younger. But he knew he wasn't fully alright then, so they'd have to wait.

But then again, they had all the time in the world, right?

"My parents are sending me to my grandparents in the States next week."

San didn't know what to feel first. Devastation? Loss? Anger? Sorrow? But they didn't come one by one though -- they hit him all at once, tearing and ripping through his chest like metaphorical cuts so deep they made San feel like he was being burned alive. His limbs weighed him down like he was melting, sinking further and further into a deep abyss with nothing left to hold on to.

He felt _so much_ , yet he only let out a disbelieving, barely-there smile. Because he should've expected this. He really should've. "...Really?"

Wooyoung nodded, his hands tightly fisting the surface of his bed. "...Yes."

The silence between them was so thick and palpable, because even though they had a lot to say, they just didn't really know _how_ to say it.

"San... Please, say _something_." Wooyoung eventually broke the silence. His eyes looked bloodshot and lacked the childlike spirit they once had. He was _broken_.

San resisted the urge to bawl then and there, because he knew that wouldn't have solved anything. Crying wouldn't solve a situation like this.

So instead, his softly squeezed Wooyoung's hand, and forced on a small smile. "...Are your grandparents nice?"

Wooyoung's jaw clenched, his face mirroring that of sheer disbelief. "San..."

San sniffed and looked down, hating the horrible way his heart ached inside his chest. "I just -- I wanna know if everything's going to be alright when you get there."

"So now you're pushing me away, is that it? Now you don't want me anymore because you saw me trying to kill myself?" Wooyoung spoke, his tone betraying the utter defeat and panic he must've been experiencing.

San quickly shook his head. " _No_ , Woo. That's not what I meant -- "

But Wooyoung wasn't having any of it. "Why have the locket I bought for the both of us around your neck when you're so eager to let me go and _forget about me_ , huh?"

"Listen to me!" San begged. The tears were falling down now, but he didn't care. How could he possibly have when he knew that in just a few days, Wooyoung would be physically gone from his sight?

"I -- I _know_ you hate this," San continued. His heartbeat thundered erratically inside his chest, beating against his eardrums. "And I hate it too, alright? I hate that this is happening to us, I hate that things are so out of control. But I want you to know that I want _nothing_ but the best for you. I only want you to be happy."

"So you think my parents sending me over there is going to make me happy?" Wooyoung questioned, his discouraged eyes boring through San's.

San slowly caressed the younger's fingers with his thumb. "You don't look happy _now_."

Wooyoung just scoffed, using his free hand to wipe his eyes. "I'd be happy if my parents _hadn't_ been involved."

"But sadly, that's the way things are for now." San willed himself to remain composed. He didn't want to break down. "S-So that's why you should focus on no one else but yourself when you're over there. And I..." San pulled out the locket Wooyoung had gifted him, "I'll focus on bettering myself here too..."

"I don't want to leave you," Wooyoung shut his eyes as more tears descended down his face.

San couldn't hold it in anymore. He pulled Wooyoung in close and buried his neck in his shoulder. The younger held him tight as well with the hand he could use, his tears soaking through the fabric of San's shirt.

Now San knew the iciest feeling in the world wasn't him being almost drenched and submerged inside the sea's turbulent waves, but it was the sound of Wooyoung breathlessly sobbing on his shoulder.

"I know it'll be hard, _extremely hard_ ," San spoke, "but we'll get through it. We'll call and text each other whenever we can, and we'll always carry our lockets around to remember the times we spent together."

Wooyoung's fingers fisted San's shirt, his grip gradually loosening the more the older's words sunk in. "I don't know w-when, or _if_ I'm ever gonna come back."

"However long it takes, I promise I'll be waiting," San replied. "I'll wait for you, Woo. I won't _ever_ forget you."

And San really wouldn't. He wouldn't forget Wooyoung's breathtaking eyes that held the moon and the stars and everything in between. He wouldn't ever forget Wooyoung's big smiles and contagious laughter, and how determined the younger had been to befriend him and make him gain more confidence in himself. Or how Wooyoung's heart synced perfectly with his when they laid under the covers together, the amount of heat his body provided San unmatched.

San wouldn't ever forget a thing, because he was in love with Wooyoung, and that wouldn't change anytime soon.

"I won't forget about you too," Wooyoung said. "There's no way I'd ever forget the most beautiful boy I've ever seen."

San laughed, one that was a little bit more _real_ and decreased the pressure kicking at his chest. "Thank you. _For everything_. For listening and helping me through the hard times. Thank you for looking into the condition I had and for cheering me up and showing me what it's like to be loved. And _yeah_ ," San giggled, ruffling his almost dry hair, "I also really like the clothes you bought for me, as well as making me discover just how much I love my new hair colour."

Wooyoung scoffed, but he grinned after. "Of course. Let's...let's meet later on when we're the best versions of ourselves." He poked the older's arm. "And you better have your locket with you when we meet or I'm gonna kick you in the balls."

San chuckled. "Okay."

"And when we meet again you have to makeout with me, no matter the place."

"Okay, Woo." Now, San was blushing. "I will. When we meet again, we can do whatever you want and go wherever you wanna go."

Right then, two people that resembled Wooyoung entered, their unexpected presence igniting a sense of doom in San. He'd never clearly seen the younger's parents before now, but at that moment he'd wished he'd never met them at all.

Wooyoung stared at them with such excessive hatred it could rival a thousand scorching suns. He then reached out and let his fingers run along the base of San's jawline, before closing up the space between them with a chaste, lingering kiss; the biggest ' _fuck_ _you_ ' to his parents because they couldn't crush his spirit anymore.

It caught San by surprise, but he didn't push himself back or move away as he was _tired_ of being scared and apprehensive of the future. And right then, even under the scrutiny and open judgement from the people that gave Wooyoung life, he felt a lot _freer_ than he'd ever felt in a long, long time.

And it was a wonderful, fantastic feeling.


	35. epilogue: carpe vitae

_implied sexual content (nothing explicit/_ _graphic_ _)_

_* * *_

  
The sun was at its peak today, the clouds in the sky barely present. A steady breeze danced with the leaves of the sturdy trees that littered that public park that afternoon.

The picturesque scenery calmed a now twenty year old San as he inhaled a deep breath. The crisp air felt cold and refreshing despite the warmth that the sun radiated, but that was one of the many charms of Summer. San had never been one to notice and observe the seasons, but at that moment he couldn't help but revel and appreciate the nature that surrounded him.

A collared Golden Retriever then pranced up to him with excited pants, its bouncing tan fur burning a vibrant shade of orange under the beaming sunlight. It lovingly wriggled its face into San's palm as it passed him the tennis ball it'd held in it mouth, and its tail excitedly wagged while it waited for San to throw it.

It caught the dark haired male by surprise, but this _wasn't_ his dog. In fact, he'd never owned a pet before. He'd never interacted with one either, unless the excitable beagle Mingi and Yunho had adopted together a year ago counted.

But nonetheless, San took the ball, the dog's round and expressive eyes igniting a tight feeling in his chest. They reminded all too much of painful memories, ones about a boy who'd travelled away three years ago and never came back.

 _Crap_ , San thought, peering down at the smiling, friendly dog before him. He'd came here to think and _put himself together_ , even declining the offer of going out with his cousin because his thoughts as of late had been too jumbled up and heart-wrenching. But now he was back to thinking about _him_ , and all of a sudden the mess of emotions he'd felt after parting with him resurfaced stronger than ever.

San's lower lip trembled as he bit hard on it. No, there was no way he'd tear up right now. He wouldn't allow it. He'd came to this park to cheer himself up with the outside world because he'd been spending far too much time cooped up at his house, but now it seemed as though his attempt at livening up his mood would fail once again.

Yes, there were moments where San smiled and laughed. Mostly when he'd seen Seonghwa's adorable and charming boyfriend in person for the first time, and whenever Mingi and Yunho invited him over to babysit their childlike puppy from time to time as they embarked on one of their nightly escapades. He also smiled a lot when he watched a show he liked, or listened to good music.

But there had never been a moment in his three years without Jung Wooyoung where he'd truly been _happy_.

The Golden Retriever casually licked his palm, its hefty paws fisting the intensely green grass rather impatiently.

"Must've been waiting for some time, huh?" San questioned while forcing on a smile. But before he could finally throw the ball, a woman hurriedly rushed down to where San and the dog were. Her black and white polka dotted dress contrasted wildly with the colourful theme of the park.

"Oh my god!" She exclaimed with wide astonished eyes, her voice rather low for how babyish her features were. Her hair was pitch black and long, falling over her shoulders in healthy waves and complementing her scarlet shaded lips. "Sorry -- Star really likes people. I hope he didn't bother you too much."

San shook his head, before passing over the ball to her. The dog -- _Star_ \-- began wriggling his furry tail in a rapid fashion, his royal blue and sparkly collar tinkling once he took notice of his owner. "Nah, it's fine. Your dog, right?"

The female sat next to San on the bench and threw the ball to the distance, Star immediately following after it.

Although the time of San being insecure of his looks and feeling inadequate had long since passed, especially with the few consultations he'd had with psychologists over the years as well as with his grandfather's help, San was still a bit cautious with this woman around. It wasn't like she posed any threat to him or looked interested in dating him, but even if that were the case, San would've politely declined because he wasn't straight and he just _couldn't_ bring himself to date anyone that _wasn't_ Wooyoung.

"I'm Song Yuqi," she finally introduced with a bright grin, scratching her friendly giant of a dog behind the ears once he came back to her.

"I'm San," San replied. He had no qualms with sharing his name with her as she seemed harmless enough. Plus, her bubbly vibe was contagious.

"Can you tell it's my first summer here in South Korea?" Yuqi asked with a smile.

"Really?" San looked at her, her dimples and shining eyes faintly reminding him of Wooyoung again. It seemed as though wherever he went, he just couldn't escape his thoughts about the younger male. It was a cruel cycle, because San had only managed to keep in touch with him for some months before they lost all contact.

"Mhm," Yuqi nodded, throwing the ball back into the main field. "Hope it doesn't sound _too_ sloppy. I already have to keep up with Chinese being my mother language, as well as having to speak and communicate in English in America. It was just a _huge_ hassle to deal with."

At her mention of America, San was taken back to a point in time where he'd so desperately wished for everything to be _different_ , only to no avail. God, he missed Wooyoung. He really did.

"Hey... Um, I don't mean to pry or anything, but... are you okay?" Yuqi asked, her tone seeping with worry. "You look a bit sad."

San shook his head. He let his hand rest on his chest, absentmindedly fiddling with that same locket Wooyoung had gifted him those years ago. The closed heart still held one of those pictures Wooyoung had taken of them kissing because San couldn't bring himself to change it.

"I'm fine," he exhaled. "Just a bit tired, is all."

Yuqi nodded with a smile. "Hey, I know we just met, but I feel like we should be friends."

San couldn't help the chuckle that left his lips. "Really?"

Yuqi laughed. "Really. I just think we'd get along well, not that I'm interested in you or anything. I mean, I _am_ interested in you, but not in _that way_ , you get me? God, I'm rambling again aren't I?"

"A little," San grinned, noticing how Yuqi watched him with a hint of wonderment before focusing on her dog.

"I'm hosting a lil' something later this evening. It's a 'bonfire by the beach' sort of thing, and everyone's invited since my family just loves _splurging_ on things like these," Yuqi eventually said. "And, _I don't know_ , would you like to come? It'll be _fun~_ "

San never liked beaches since the day he almost lost his love in one, and as a result, he slowly shook his head.

"I'm not sure I can make it," he answered, hating the fact that he was basically turning down a person who only wanted to be his friend.

But Yuqi didn't look offended though. She waved a dismissive hand and laughed. "It's no biggie. Hey, can I get your number so I can send the time and place to you in case you ever change your mind?"

 _Don't you dare say no_ , San's inner voice berated. _She's only trying to be nice to you_.

So San pulled out his phone and flashed the female next to him a small, persuaded smile. "Alright..."

_* * *_

  
Wooyoung stared out the window of some restaurant his friend had requested him to be in, lost in a bunch of thoughts circulating his head about a certain boy with soft, purple hair that never strayed too far off from his dreams and memories. Despite being excited to be back in Korea, exhaustion in the form of jetlag weighed on his limbs even when it was only his second day back here.

As Wooyoung rubbed his eyes that were strained with fatigue, he couldn't stop the shame and hopelessness that swallowed him whole because he hadn't spoken to anyone here in a long, long time. His grandparents had been the most at fault for this, those strict yet loveable people adamant on bringing him back to his feet by putting him up for psychotherapy and getting him to quit his addiction to nicotine.

The first months with them had been extremely hard on Wooyoung, mostly because he found their personalities overbearing and because it'd finally dawned on him that he really _was_ now away from San and all his other friends.

He'd lash out, fight with others and skip school, indulging in dangerously impulsive stunts that almost landed him in the hospital at one point. But even with that, his grandparents never gave up on him. They made sure he studied hard, attended his classes and had his weekly sessions with the psychiatrist they'd gotten for him until he began to show changes in his character. The tough love they had for him was _nothing_ like the neglect his actual parents showed him, and Wooyoung grew to greatly appreciate it as it made him a better person.

 _If only it hadn't put a wedge in his and San's relationship._..

His feelings for San were just as strong and as prominent as they'd been three years ago, and at that point he just couldn't wait to see him again.

"Thanks for waiting for me!" A female voice suddenly chirped, before a familiar face pulled out the seat in front of Wooyoung.

Wooyoung just shrugged, meeting his friend's eyes. "No problem. Although you're kinda late."

"I call that being ' _fashionably_ _tardy_ '," Yuqi replied, bringing about an eye roll from Wooyoung. "Don't blame me though, blame Star for being so cutely needy that I just _had_ to take him to the park today."

Wooyoung took a small sip out his soda can. "How are you so bubbly? Didn't _you_ travel here _with me_ just yesterday?"

"Hey, I'm just an excited person in general, alright," Yuqi tried to defend herself. "And plus, aren't you planning on reconnecting with your past friends?"

Wooyoung ran a hand through his icy blond locks and bit his lip in thought. "...Yeah. But I kinda lost contact with them. Hopefully they still live in the same area and work at the same jobs."

"Hopefully..." Yuqi nodded with a sympathetic frown. She greatly understood others and strived to help them whenever she could, and that was one of the many things Wooyoung liked about her ever since they'd met at their freshman year at college in Manhattan. She was _never_ discouraged for long, and she was fiercely loyal too, even having no problem moving _countries_ with Wooyoung when he finally had the chance to.

"Okay, on an unrelated, but _slightly_ related note," Yuqi grinned coquettishly, "I met this guy at the park earlier. And gosh, he's a total _bombshell_. Like, he looked so damn attractive just _sitting_ there with Star that I just _had_ to go _talk_ to him."

Wooyoung took another sip of his drink. Of course, being friends with Yuqi meant he was no stranger to the frequent crushes she had on guys. Even when she introduced a bunch of interested ones to Wooyoung in America, the blond male only turned them down. He couldn't risk being with someone else when he still loved San.

"Did you get his number or something?" Wooyoung asked, not really interested in the topic of conversation.

"Yep!" Yuqi beamed. "We even talked as I walked my dog back to my car, and his personality seems so _endearing_. Hell, he even has a nice butt."

Wooyoung grimaced, glaring at Yuqi who started cackling due to his expression. "Gross."

"Don't act as if you don't check guys out too."

" _I do not_."

"Well, you definitely _will_ check him out _if_ he decides to show up at the beach tonight," Yuqi assured her frowning friend. "He's just _that_ striking." She flung some of her long hair behind her shoulders. "You _are_ coming, right?"

"...Yeah." Wooyoung wouldn't dare tell her how he'd almost drowned at a beach three years ago. Besides, he'd already gotten over his slight fear of them by now, and it wasn't like he was going to swim there anyway.

"Sweet!" Yuqi cheered. "You owe me twenty if I catch you fawning over him."

Wooyoung rolled his eyes. " _Geez_ , you're really caught up on that guy aren't you?"

"He's a hottie."

Wooyoung just shook his head in disbelief, but then he smiled, because it was a difficult task in itself to stay annoyed at Yuqi. She was just too cute. "Whatever."

* * *

  
As people laughed and chatted about, the bright, sturdy flames of the bonfire sprinkling its surroundings with light and warmth, Wooyoung leant against the beach house with a beverage in hand and Yuqi next to him. She was donned in a pretty sundress, her red painted nails twirling a strand of her hair as she listened to him talk about how he planned on getting a separate apartment for himself instead of just moving in with her.

Truth was, he was kind of reserving himself for another roommate, one with stunning dimpled smiles and crinkled eyes that gave him _hope_. Wooyoung had no idea if San lived alone now or if he still lived with Seonghwa, but he still wished to have his own place with the older by his side no matter how _selfish_ the thought sounded.

 _You stopped contacting him and left him, as well as all your other friends in the dark for three years,_ Wooyoung's mind muttered darkly. _What makes you think he still loves you_?

These thoughts stung, because they were _right_. There was _no_ guarantee whatsoever that San still liked him, or was even still single. For all Wooyoung knew, San might've had someone else by now, someone who was actually _around_ and treated him like a king, because that was how San deserved to be treated. Wooyoung had been absent from the older's life for _three whole years,_ so he shouldn't be disappointed if San turned out to have another person now, promises be damned.

Despite his unhappy mood, Wooyoung still socialized around with Yuqi at his side. He willed away the frustration and disappointment he felt and told himself that everything was going to be alright, no matter how bleak the future turned out to be.

The sky looked beautiful tonight, twinkling stars decorating its navy blue palette. Wooyoung kept looking at it, wondering if San was watching it too.

He suddenly heard Yuqi silently gasp next to him.

"Oh my god, it's San. The nice butt guy!"

Wooyoung's grip on his bottled beverage tightened simultaneously. Beside him, Yuqi was grinning, excitedly waving over the boy who'd plagued his mind for years now.

He felt his heart stop when San's eyes met his from across the dimly lit beach. The older looked drop-dead _gorgeous_ in his all-black ensemble, his dark hair slicked back with some loose purple strands daintily falling over his widened eyes. They were the same exact shade of purple they'd been before Wooyoung had moved away.

San looked as if he'd just seen a ghost, and Wooyoung would've joked about it if he probably didn't already look a million times worse.

Yuqi, being oblivious to what was happening, proceeded to _drag_ Wooyoung over to where San stood, both men still shell-shocked at seeing each other's faces for the first time in a long while.

San couldn't believe his eyes. His heart was pounding so quickly he swore he was almost getting a heart attack.

 _Wooyoung was here_.

Platinum blond and still as devastingly beautiful as ever, Wooyoung stood _right there_ in front of San, his arm hooked with the same woman San had just gotten to know today.

"Hi! I'm pleasantly surprised seeing you here," Yuqi gushed. Her sunny yellow dress greatly complemented the thin button-up Wooyoung had on, and San felt himself gulp. _Are_ _they a thing?_

"Well, I decided to give it a shot." San didn't know how his voice came out so steady, especially when his lungs at that moment made it increasingly difficult to breathe properly. He kept staring at Wooyoung, disbelief reflecting off his stare. Was he dreaming, or was Wooyoung really there?

"Hope you're enjoying it so far," Yuqi replied. "And oh -- this is my close friend Jung Wooyoung. Jung Wooyoung, meet San."

Wooyoung's fingers itched to grab onto San and hold him tight, but he had no idea if the older male felt the same way anymore. His gaze lingered on San's neck, but the taller had on a turtleneck so he had no way of telling if he still wore their couple locket. _Probably not_.

"Choi San..." He found himself whispering, which caught Yuqi's and San's attention almost immediately.

"Wait..." Yuqi's eyebrows rose as she watched San once again. Recognition flashed across her features. " _You're_ Choi San?"

Wooyoung felt his insides bubbling with embarrassment, and then he was grabbing his friend and whispering into her ear.

"I need to talk to him," was all he said, but Yuqi _understood_ completely.

"I'll talk to you guys later!" she said with a huge smile, before ushering herself out of the conversation.

Several people surrounded San and Wooyoung, but it felt like it was just them there, nothing else mattering at that moment.

"Woo..." San began. He wanted to touch Wooyoung so bad, to feel him close and discover him once again, but just stood there, unable to move.

Wooyoung gulped. The air between them suddenly felt exceedingly warm, the intense feelings they had for each other finally seeing the light of day again.

"Let's..." Wooyoung gulped, "let's talk someplace else. Please."

San nodded. They left the beach and walked closer to where the cars were parked. The air was filled with tension so thick it felt _suffocating_ , and when Wooyoung turned around to look at San, the older quickly looked away.

There was just _so much_ to say that Wooyoung didn't know where to begin from. "I...I came with Yuqi, but I want to talk to you somewhere that _isn't_ here."

San quickly nodded. His eyes were warm and contained that same tenderness Wooyoung could never get tired of seeing. "I-I brought a car. We can go wherever you want."

* * *

As soon as the door to Wooyoung's room at the hotel he currently stayed at was shut, he pulled San in for a heated kiss. The older moved accordingly, his arms tightly slipping around Wooyoung's waist. 

San's body was hot to the touch, the older passionately kissing and sucking the slope of Wooyoung's neck, and Wooyoung _loved_ it. Salty tears formed in his eyes as his body tremoured with clear want, melting into San's careful hands and powerful caresses.

"I m-missed you so much, Sannie," Wooyoung whispered. His throat made it hard to breathe properly and his voice felt all choked up, but even with that he was so _happy_ San was with him again.

  
"I missed you too." San laid him gently on the plush bed, the hazy amber lights of the bedroom illuminating his bloodshot eyes and trembling lips. Despite all this, Wooyoung thought he was nothing less than breathtaking. "I can't believe you're here right now with me."

More tears ran down Wooyoung's cheeks as he allowed San to unbutton the rest of his shirt, the soft, warm pads of his hands igniting something akin to flames that tightly coiled inside his stomach.

Wooyoung's locket felt tremendously cold against his burning skin, glinting against the low lights of the bedroom. San's fingers glided along it and down Wooyoung's unclothed chest with newfound admiration that made the younger's heart twist with anticipating knots.

"You're so beautiful, Woo," San told the younger because that was what he believed, because that was the truth. "You're so fucking beautiful..."

Wooyoung lured him in with another kiss that tasted of adoration and sweetness. Their lips moved in accordance as their warm tongues entered each other's mouths. San's eyes bored into Wooyoung's with such volatile desperation and need it left Wooyoung _breathless_ , his hands delicately exploring the world the younger was made out of.

Bathed under the comforting, serene darkness that drowned them in secrecy as San slipped himself in, their bodies became connected in ways they never had before. As their limbs clung to each other, pleasured mewls seeping into the night and hands grasping at each other's skin, their hearts bloomed and flourished with a plethora of new sensations. That was when San knew he would _never_ forget this special moment for as long as he lived.

_* * *_

  
"I've got like, a _huge_ amount of missed calls from Yuqi as well as my grandparents who worry a hell of a lot," Wooyoung's voice echoed from the distance as he laid his phone on the marbled counter. He had on a long silk robe that exposed his tan and perfectly toned legs, and San loved seeing them.

  
San grinned once Wooyoung made his way back to him on the bed again, the younger smelling of gentle vanilla when he rested himself inside San's arms. "How was it? The time you spent with your grandparents, I mean."

Wooyoung's pale pink lips quipped into a small grin. His skin _glowed_ , and San could feel the steady beating of his heart on his chest. He was _happy_. They both were.

"Hmmm, well..." Wooyoung cleared his throat. "I was kind of a bitch to them during my first few months there even when they tried their best to help me. But it's not my fault though. I just missed you and the others _terribly_. Those years without you were hard."

San stroked the younger's smooth blond hair. The almost white colour looked celestial and commanded attention, which described Wooyoung perfectly. "But you're here now, right?"

Wooyoung's round eyes met his as he let out a contagious giggle. He looked so _alive_ now, so full of vigor that it warmed San's heart. Yes, Wooyoung was all grown up now, but he still had that ambition and playfulness in his eyes that San had seen all those years ago. His Wooyoung was okay now.

"I still can't believe Yuqi, of all people, led us together again," Wooyoung laughed. "She'd talked about meeting you at the park yesterday, but I assumed you were some other dude. If I'd known it was you I would've ran after you like, _straight away_."

San chuckled, leaning into Wooyoung's touch when the younger stroked his cheek.

"...But I'm glad she did." Wooyoung's lips met San's once more, and even when they'd kissed a lot the night before and even earlier that morning in the shower, they both still _couldn't_ get enough of each other. After all, they'd been deprived of each other for _three years._ They _at least_ deserved this.

"I should've _known_ she was talking about you though," Wooyoung muttered between kisses. "She said you have a nice butt, and you _really_ do."

San's whole face flamed up. He shut his eyes as his hands fisted the younger's clothed chest. Wooyoung had begun kissing him below his jaw, an area on his face that got him particularly affected.

"Before I meet up with the others, how are things going with everyone?" Wooyoung asked San. They were hugging now, limbs tangled and hands intertwined.

San smiled into the younger's cotton soft hair as pleasant memories overtook him. "So...I got to finally meet Seonghwa's boyfriend in person last Christmas, and it turned out to be a hell of a meaningful meeting. Nina, Yeosang and Jongho still keep in touch with me and they're all amazing. Also, Yunho and Mingi adopted a new puppy together last year. They named her _Woosan_."

Wooyoung paused. "Woosan? Why would they name their dog 'umbrella'?"

San jokingly punched his arm. "They named her after _us_ , dummy."

"Oh. _Oh_."

San laughed, pecking his boyfriend on the lips. "Yeah. They didn't like seeing me so sad, so they named her after us and made me hang out with her a lot."

"That's cute. I'd _love_ to meet her when we finally go see them."

"She'll love you," San muttered. _Just like how I love you_.

"Did you get to meet Choi Daehwan?" Wooyoung asked after some time had passed.

San nodded, raking his fingers through his dark hair. "Yeah, I did a few weeks after you left, actually. Luckily, he told me I came at the right time and helped me with my bleeding problem."

"What did he do?"

San held out his hands to Wooyoung, staring at the blond in other to witness his reaction. "You see these lines?" He whispered, a small number of goosebumps dotting his skin as Wooyoung ran his fingers along the those specific lines. "After I met him, I realized I _didn't_ have them on both hands. They were hardly anything I noticed before though."

"Anyway, he called them _lifelines_ and said he'd stitch new ones for me to get rid of what I have," San concluded, while Wooyoung's face contorted in confusion.

" _Stitch_ new lifelines?"

"He kinda used this magic pin and custom-made new lines for me. They were hardly painful -- just strange."

Wooyoung exhaled a relieved sigh. "I'm really glad. So...no bleeding again?"

San grinned, shaking his head. "No bleeding again. Only when the lifelines run out would I need to worry. Also, he said that you were extremely lucky to find that website, since it chooses whoever it wants to appear to."

"I have no idea whatever that means," Wooyoung said with a heart-stopping smirk, "but I assume it has something to do with me being _meant_ for you?"

San stared at Wooyoung, at his _love_. The man who saved him. "Maybe."

"Then...move in with me when I get a house, San. We'll have our own place to return back to after a long day of work or school," Wooyoung proposed. "We can even get a pet like Yunho and Mingi, and decorate the area anyhow we want. We'll also have plenty of _alone time_ as well where no one can be able to disturb us. We'll have fun and go crazy while experiencing the many joys of life. _Together_."

San couldn't contain the vibrant smile on his face, indescribable happiness filling him up. "Of course, Woo. Anything you want, we'll do it."

"Really?" Wooyoung's smile mirrored his.

"Yes, really."

And San truly meant it.


End file.
